The last one

I wish this Sunday was last
With the sun trying to steal in through
The blinds of the east-facing window
Today, the windows are open
And the ocean-blue curtains gently
Flow in the placid lake breeze
The weather too ideal for words
The hanging chimes the only sound
Yet I’d trade this idyllic tranquility
For last Sunday, your head on the
Pillow next to mine in the morning
Moments of tenderness interspersed
With mordant jokes, witty banter
You next to me for a moment more