First Hour

The first hour of my day is quiet.
I take my medication and wait.
Sometimes I fall back asleep.
Sometimes I’m left with my own thoughts.
I reflect on what I dreamed, 
how well I slept,
what I want to write.
I’ve learned to leave my phone
on my nightstand.
I notice the light in my room,
how my muscles feel.
I move from one position
to another then back again,
my stomach filled with water makes weird noises.
The blankets piled on top of each other
keep me warm.
The cold winter air does not wreck
my peace of mind.