I want to put morning in a bowl and and savor it. I want to soak up this sunshine of September by the blue lake where the sunfish skim and the wise women - gathered - write from prompts, eat plump ripe grapes, sip tea, sit under shade trees, this breezy sanctuary, where they spin tales, tell stories, write poems, tell truth. A morning like this, I am a blue bowl, filled with delight.