Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Saturday Morning


Six o'clock, Saturday morning
I am awake.
First craving is for you.
Letting it go, I slide
Into early Saturday solitude
And out of bed.
Shock of cold
On bare feet, seeking slippers

French roast beckons.
I am the only human awake
And looking at the sky.
Dark blue haunts outside the kitchen window 
A raven wings its way
Across wide blue.  
Coffee steam opens pores.
I remember last night’s,
First burst of cold into innocent lungs,
The clean sky of diamonds.
The blue outside begins to brighten,
Reminiscent of your eyes.

Minutes pass behind my back, blue takes on white.
An ugly gull arcs 
Across the sky.  
I resent the sun’s detailed exposure.
The city revealed: a salt stain.
Private purity of earlier profound blue
Interrupted.
Heavy rolling rubber on asphalt audible


The charm of solitude dissolves and I want someone to break into the day with.

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