I awake in the morning
Sleep shuddering in my legs
The weight of hand spun wool warm
Against the rise and fall of my navel
I wonder what we will do today
What new textures my hands will encounter
Which animals will need attention
If the sandy soil will be warm or cold
I wonder when I leave the turquoise door
If I will smell the blossom of damp desert
Or the ripe manure of the sheep
Or the lanolin
I can hear the soft tune of the wind
Walloping the cracks of the house
The silent hiss of the kettle boiling
The shuffle of Doña Maria and Antonio
I hear the birdsong outside
The pattering of water in the canal
The tremors of warming metal
Absorbing sunshine stretching
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