Denizens from a denim home.
Landscape, a slightly faded touch of blue and brown worn.
Hanging in the dim light, feral or abandoned, unplanned destinies.
In the middle of our own attention, a crushed leather couch for two.
Soft as room temperature butter when family begins the day, anew.
There is an air…that would deter most.
Pungency that outsiders…simply do not understand.
An ease of frivolity.
Then of rest.
What a ‘laugh’ if this seated sofa could talk.
Friendships, spats, the photo album in-between.
A comforting familiarity of the morning routine.
