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 

Ooops almost forgot 
to pen something 
life you know 
sometimes takes priority 
here I am
as always hours 
later sitting quietly 
and watching snow 
make its final 
hurrah knowing that 
like most of 
what I did 
today will disappear