Sunday Morning

On the pleasure of sleeping late Sunday morning...

Sunday morning, waking up from a deep sleep
I open my eyes and see the sun filtering through the shutters
I shift around a couple of times in my bed
Savoring the last moments of peace for the day
I never want to leave the warm covers
But soon I hear the voice of my mother
Telling me it is time to get up
Slowly I get my legs out, one by one
Till I am able to stand up
My eyes still full of sleep
I stretch myself, my arms reaching for the sky
Happy and rested, I smile
But suddenly, like a cloud veiling the sun,
I realize that not until an entire week has passed
Will I get the chance to wake up again
To the sound of chirping birds