Sweet Solitude

I heard the drumming on the rooftop

Of the heady fingers, perfect in rhythm

Diving into bed, eyes already shut

Snuggled under the sheet to better enjoy the rain

Dishes in the sink undone

Clothes piled unfolded

The newspaper lying on the floor

Open at page number eleven

I look at them languidly

No hurry here, my  mate

None around to roll eyes at me

I can do my chores later

In sweet solitude

I am my own master

I go easy on myself

Taking my own sweet time

No visits, no guests

And definitely no getting together

I celebrate my  existence

Peacefully all by myself , my dear.