Woke up at an unaccustomed hour today. And didn't know what to do. My earliest memories color me a wastrel.
Thats when the household set out on the start of a new day. The crows still silent. The sky a sleepy spread blinking with fading stars, dawn yet to break. The water put on boil. The cows milked ready for the hungry spawn still ensconced in peaceful sleep. There was an efficiency in the work; no frivolity. Everything done was in response to a need.
I wake up with soft hands couched against my neck for warmth, day break close. And wonder what I could do. This life of comfort and privilege renders me floundering and lost in this early hour.
