Alison Cassidy - A Slow Day

It's a slow day,
a ‘nothing much to do’ day,
a laid back, andante sort of day.

No clock to watch,
no phone to ring,
no people
around
worrying.

So I sit on my chair,
place my fingers on the keys
and watch
words
appear,
(as if by magic)
on this linen white
snow bright screen.

Where do they come from
I wonder?
These words
that pop
like rabbits
from a hat,
like notes
from a bird,
like bubbles
from a pipe?

These fancies
that start in my head
slip into my fingers
and reveal themselves
like strangers
before my eyes?

And does it really matter anyway -
On this slow, lazy Sunday?

Alison Cassidy

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-slow-day/