Morning

coffee enough to last
an hour, creep back
through dream-fog
to that sky-narrow stair
(and sigh)
walk awkwardly through
other lives all knowing
(an hour’s purpose)
wake the sleeping
lions set to whine or roar
or yawp

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16 thoughts on “Morning

    1. Thanks! Do you ever write something, thinking you mean one thing, and then re-read and decide it means something else altogether? 😀

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    1. Ha, the struggle was real. I decided my days are too scattered to do any writing, so I’m trying an early-morning routine, while the house is dark and quiet.

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  1. And would the sleeping lions perhaps be your offspring? My mom used to wake early so she could have a quiet cup of coffee before we all woke up. My brother would hear her, get out of bed and then read the sports page out loud to her — no escape ever!

    On the serious side, this poem elicits that early morning quiet very well, and the almost lack of reality when you get the house to yourself (it is disorienting, no?).

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    1. Truth–I thought I was writing about writing, but when I read it, I thought, oh, it’s the kids! So maybe both?
      I need to get used to the hours, but it is a nice feeling to have that dark quiet to myself.

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