Reveille

BREAKFAST

Dark-headed coffee is a keen companion

Of depth and wit,

Finely calibrated scientific instrument.

Swinging his censer just below my nostrils,

He slays my logic with perfume.

“What crow has stolen your words?”

He asks. “Has your eloquence

Turned into baubles in his nest?”

I pay no attention to the ribbing.

He is too valuable a vizier.

I mine gold every morning.

I take my breakfast like a king—

To my right salted fish,

To my left steaming rice,

Fresh egg is the jester.

Butter, a bird, is eyeing the bread.

Milk dives smoothly into coffee.

Sugar disappears, memory of a dream.

A cock crosses swords with the day.

Things to do arrange themselves,

Tallest to shortest.

Digesting a bolus,

I rise ready to run the next marathon,

Wakeful as a bat, electric as a hawk.

 

 

Morning steps forward…

Morning steps forward, freshly washed, newly fed, tautly wound, a limber bow,

Ready to spring, tumble, wheel, pull at oars, throw the hammer, leap the long jump,

High kick, vault, cartwheel forward, lunge, Superman punch, elbow strike, grapple,

Throw, bound, mount a motorcycle, zip, zap, round and round the block,

Water ski, slicing the surface—fine fillets—smoothly, upswept, propelled by a parachute of air,

Sling saucers aloft, spinning pizza dough, snare them whirling on sticks, bob, bobble,

Hop, flip bowls from foot to head, head to foot, right to left, left, right, back again.

 

 

Hot fresh bread…

Hot fresh bread, breakfast time:

Fragrant, not a flower,

Warming, not a fire,

Lively, not a flame,

Soothing, not a salve,

Kindly, not a caress;

Dark honey wheat,

Black oat barley,

Sweet cinnamon raisin,

Savory apple walnut,

Ciabatta, Foccacia, Pita,

Bublik, Chapati, Pandesal—

Parmesan, Romano—two-cheese,

Sunflower, sesame, fennel—three-seed,

Every type of loaf

Bundled in brown wrapper,

Crackling in your embrace,

Steaming scented clouds,

Breathe deeply

Atop a mountain;

Billowing, fluffy blanket,

Pull it up,

Tuck it snug

Beneath your chin;

Bracing, poppy fireside,

Cross your arms,

Hold it to your heart.

Fed in deepest winter,

Bathed at height of summer,

Refreshed when day is dry,

Sheltered when life is wet,

Healed when you are pierced,

Becalmed…even after you are violently shaken,

Remade in hope,

Transformed in joy,

Nourished, uplifted…blessed:

Every good thing comes to you 

As a loaf of bread.

 

 

WORK

Work springs from bed, time ringing,

Switches off alarm, not clock, world,

Ticking, spinning, running, rushing—

Undresses, showers, splashes—

Sun, birds, window—towels, fluffy, dry—

Dresses, belt, tie, mirror, brushes hair,

Bounds for egg, rice, coffee—

Brushes teeth, brushes hair again,

Hops in car, drives, slows down, traffic—

Rain, wipers, left, right, metronome—

Signals, turns, parks, jumps out—at last!—

Guard, elevator button, fourth floor,

Hello, good morning, sits down, breathless,

Switches on computer, types—tik, tak,

Tikkity-tak—gets up, coffee maker—almost

No one here, checks calendar—holiday.

 

 

What gets you out of bed in the morning?