Throwing open the curtains 
Coffee cup in hand
Steam rises and fogs
The window panes like
My grandmothers soup to
My grandfathers eyeglasses when
I visited as child
The glow begins in
The east like toaster
Wires after bread has
Been lowered like cannonballs
Onto catapults clouds lumber
Past like drunken sailors
Returning to ships after
Shore leave as people
And their pets wander
About sniffing the ground
And air like wolves
Seeking out the scents
Of day and prey