Morning Time. Poem by Terry Collett

Morning time
time to sit
on the side
of your bed

time to muse
on the night before
and that dame
who stayed

and as just left
and you know
it could have been
a better night

a better relationship
a more intense encounter
but there you go
that's life

it comes and goes
and leaves sometimes
a horrible taste
in the mouth

like a night spent
drinking too much
or smoking
or just plain being here

as a kid you would
spend this moment
in a prayer mode
you know

where you
close you eyes
and put your hands together
and you mutter words

which you were taught
by your parents
as they were taught
by their parents

and so it went on
but then one day
you stopped it
stopped praying

and just sat
on the side of the bed
with a fuzzy
kind of head

like now
and nothing
has changed
somehow.