When a patronizing email awaits you first thing on a Monday morning, but something brilliant in the sunrise won't allow you to give it the sort of energy that might bring you down.

I nodded through your

patronization, and set

my coffee cup on the desk.

Sunshine was creeping west

through the house rows

as frost shone on rooftops

silver like something precious,

something rare, sagging shingles

an asymmetric work of art.

It wasn't winter yet, nor was it

problematic to be patronized.

I've been here before, I thought,

took another sip and smiled.