With The First Light Poem by Ivona Sophia

with the first light crawling through the window
tiredness grounds my eyes with gravity
I defy the distance of ten steps.
kitchen. cup. coffee
waking my lungs with its own fog aroma, steaming
like a shower, washing crumbs of sleep.
I am opening a jar of good news,
They smell like strawberry jam and
taste the same.
(that was once but no longer is)
an hour hand pushes me backward.
still enough time to be late,
to plan every when and with whom,
and take off through open eyes.