rensekderf
epistle at noon
“Epistle at Noon”
Steam curls from the chipped mug—
a psalm rising in arabesques
against the sunlit kitchen tile.
My spoon taps a rhythm
like distant temple bells,
calling memory from its slumber.
Between the coffee’s warmth
and the hush of half–read pages,
I find an unexpected covenant:
mercy in ordinary motion.
.
