sunday morning coming down

Ether Or

lying in bed,
the bliss of the abyss,
drugged by the inhalation
of the heather nestled in your hair

near narcoleptic,
though somehow still mulling
over the day awaiting
even as it yawns aloud

so with a nod,
slip back between sheets
and breathe deep the ether
outside this window

copious, dull, tin light and cold rain
coming down, sunday morning