a lazy Sunday evening

Lazy Sunday Evening The couch sighs low as I sink right in, A quilt tossed over warm, worn skin. The world outside can wait a while, I’m busy chasing nothing—with a smile. Notifications blink, a soft, dim glow, But I let them pile, I let them go. The hum of silence, sweet and kind, A rare stillness for a scattered mind. Steam curls up from the cup I hold, Tea, just right—not too hot, not cold. A plate of snacks within easy reach, A book unopened, no lessons to teach. No deadlines here, no urgent calls, Just time that stretches, slows, and stalls. A lazy Sunday, softly ending, Like a quiet note the dusk is sending. So here I’ll stay, ‘til stars appear, Wrapped in nothing but this calm and near. No place to be, no task to do— Just me, the couch, the snacks, the brew.