In this 
moment moments 
before start
when all
just is
as before 
I stop
and listen 
to sweet 
melodies of
silence and 
deep breaths 
of someone 
still asleep 

One lamp on
basket by machine 
a naked bed
and windows open 
spring pushes past
curtains and covers 
a bee line
to the kitchen 
tired corduroy slippers 
shuffle and slide 
that first hit
of hot water 
against ground coffee 
this morning ritual 

My heart flutters 
like butterfly wings 
I wish it
was my stomach 
for I’d think 
it was love 
but now I
think it’s just 
a rickety old
car that’s been 
driven down the 
same old rutty
road called life 
and it’s bumps
and bruises felt
by my ticker

And long ago 
when I did 
you said that 
I painted you 
with brighter colors 
than you had 
are paints meant 
to be exact 
or are they 
the mirrors of 
the eyes seen 

Things are different 
a mile up 
clouds hang closer
sun shines brighter 
and all around 
me it blows 
but not here 
in a bowl 
we do find 
ourselves like fruit 
more for show
than for snow