In the morning
before I open my eyes
I listen for her breath
for sounds of her movement
for her voice calling
for sounds of her movement
for her voice calling
In the morning
before the alarm’s irritating bleat
I open my eyes to darkness
seeing no soft light filtering from the kitchen
seeing no soft light filtering from the kitchen
hearing no sounds for preparing First Breakfast
In the morning
before I leave the warmth of quilts
I pull clichés onto my psyche
covering up my doubts
covering up my doubts
with comforting words and phrases
In the morning
before I build my protective walls
I grieve
the endless day free of responsibilities saddens me
and sorrowful hours loom ahead
the endless day free of responsibilities saddens me
and sorrowful hours loom ahead
Copyright 2013 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman
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