Fat Lemons

I confirm consciousness
                                       through various
aches
                              the sun knocks on the window
wondering if I have woken.

I wave back    

            he seems content with my answer.

It's nice to have friends checking in

just to see how you are.

                               This day is a slate marked

with a few tics of chalk-

                                      nothing too serious
to do

to worry about

                        just a slower pace than

            what I am accustomed.

The lemons on my tree have grown fat

and yellow
                  against green leaves

and brown branches-

members of the household
they will soon
have to leave.

The rhythm of this day

                    as steady as my heartbeat.

There is a fluttering of wings

by the lemon tree

                            I wonder-

who could it be?