It rises east
like a loaf
of long awaited 
freshly baked bread 
its yellow color 
tinged with brown 
around the edges 
of lingering night 
grumpy old crusty
night giving crunch
to the promise 
of the warm 
and springy day 

Sitting in this 
pause this interlude 
this ellipsis before 
the next whatever 
be it whistle 
hello or hug
I too wonder 
as I’m sure 
you do too 
will this end 
how we want 
or will it
not ever end 

Brief love 
is better 
than none 
fresh fruit 
is sweeter
waiting for 
grapes to 
become wine 
denies one
of the 
sweetness picked
quickly from 
the vine 

It’s the vacuum 
the sucking out 
that distresses most
need to breathe 
to loosen tie
and unbutton shirt 
it’s the missing 
not the middle 
for there it
still was yet
harder to find 
pockets of it
also called hope 
but this this
is surely death 

Fresh sheets
and coffee 
am I 
a composer
or lover
are you 
a note
or symphony 
come let
us play