Perfect Day Begins

Diane Jay, Southern Methodist University

My perfect day begins at sixty-four degrees

A pot boiling for morning tea

A warm robe to keep me cozy

Dog chow for the pups

They too need warmth in the early dawn

A few rudimentary chores

Then the green dress with a pink sweater

Grab my bike and the dogs follow me along the path

Through the tall grass, my ride is almost always downhill

As I lean my bike at Boulangerie-Patisserie Kitzinger

I order a strong cup of coffee and a pastry

The dogs and I sit outside as I meditate on Eudora Welty

No one bothers me during this hour

A curious courtesy the French understand

Five friends have gathered at table six to talk

I join them for a few minutes to listen

Zeus, the tall Wolfhound, places her head on my lap

A sure sign that she is bored, and we must travel home

I grab my bike, book, and a fresh loaf of bread in my basket

Kimble and Athena raise their wet noses to smell the bread

I stop to gather flowers as the dogs wander in the field

I sit listening to the cattle in another pasture

The dogs return, signaling their morning nap is near

I arrive at my one-room barn where I open the doors

Gathering all my art supplies, I place my canvas

Facing the north light

I begin to paint what I believe

Today I feel sun-flowery