between
nine and ten in the morning
the best
hours
to sit out back
with the paper or book,
and coffee.
it's when the sun has swung
up and away
from the trees,
and hasn't been shaded
yet by the houses.
it's a narrow,
short alley of warm sunshine
on my face.
and as i sit here, bathing
in the glow,
i think of my father
and how he too loved
the sunlight.
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