Birthday Girl

she woke up at her usual working girl time;
the sun is still well below the horizon at 6 30
and she stretches like a cat under her warm covers
but doesn’t get up.
she rolls over and goes back to sleep for
another hour, or was it two, only then
rising to answer birthday phone calls, have
a coffee, read the paper, get back in bed
with that novel that has progressed in 7 paragraph
increments in the last six months.
Another seven paragraphs, her book shading
the sunshine, she drifts off to sleep.
she wakes up hungry, stretches like a cat under
her warm covers, shakes some wrinkles from her
pajamas and faces the day with a smile.
today, she's no working girl;
just a happy birthday girl.