eyes open pre sunrise
night’s dark diluted by the heralds
of Apollo stamping hooves and champing at their bits
my world is muted, aqua sheets to swim in
froth of net in palest green
so delicate the scent of mint
is fleeting in the air
to keep the bloodsuckers at bay
I lay there in the no light glow
of nearly morning
dreaming of the soapsuds white
of coconut sorbet cold in my mouth
the suntanned brown of perfect bacon
next to the silky gleam of egg
flipped over easy, sealed and flipped right back
or wheaten gold of pancakes round and perfumed
with the promise of completion
mingled with fragrance of the maples
that don’t grow here, simple syrup not enough
to satisfy the empty of alone here
in the morning
growing bright, demanding of some action
some move to pick up pieces
control of the cannon of my life
wild and loose among the sleepers
safely fitting in their box of morning
noon and night, a span that hurtles me
through galaxies and boxes full of cats
that live, cats that die, cats give birth to little
quarks and quasars to dig black holes
across the Universe so I can spiral
back here in a heartbeat to my bed
and dreams of breakfast
a feast to fill my morning.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is a stunning write MC...thoroughly enjoyed reading it...10+++