mornings
blaring alarm shaking my dreams… snooze.
and another time,
and then “WAKE UP”
flashing urgently across the screen,
the writing of a past self.
up, groggy, turning on the lamp,
soft duvet masking morning chill.
yawning;
i have not gotten enough sleep.
sitting up, wetting my throat with water.
turning a crisp new page,
and letting the black ink flow,
if just for a moment.
teetering across the house,
legs still unsteady,
undecided about where they are going.
but wait, they have their information:
to the bathroom, it seems.
cold water hits my face,
a stark shock.
the start to an unpleasantly unpredictable day.
the clock ticks, always set back but always off,
causing an elaborate dance to leave on time
for fear of the flashing red lights and loud horns
that is the train i have missed.
mornings tend to hold confusion like that,
yet people still wonder why i sleep in so obscenely late.
well okay, maybe that is just me being lazy.
