Sunday Morning
The early morning chillblows gently
through the open window,
caressing their faces.
He stirs,
pulling her close,
and she nestles
in the curve of his arm.
He kisses her forehead
and she smiles,
sleepy eyes closed.
Nearby
a mourning dove
cooes a lullaby so gentle,
so lovely,
they drift back to sleep,
his heart beating
a soft rhythm
against her cheek.
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