Waking before the alarm,
The cats jump and run;
Enticing, and inviting me to rise.
Filling the kettle,
I dry the clothing,
Washed the night before.
Kitty-crunchies, pelting the ceramic dish
Plink-tink to the rhythm
Of the bubbles in the boil.
Grinding beans fill the kitchen
With the aroma of anticipation
And the promise of focus.
Keys, vegetables, socks, and toothpaste;
Email, unopened letters, aftershave, and water;
Tote-bag, thermos, recycling, and chewing gun.
I play the GPS like a trombone—
The improv of its melody
Leads me to stray; for fun; for something new.
Why is it harder to get from Decatur to Chamblee,
Than it is to fly from Chicago to LA?
285 taillights tell the tale...
Trucks, stones, ice for the cooler;
Construction, stoplights, Lowes, and Buckhead;
Land Rovers, mansions, potholes, and nannys.
I could put my house in a garage
Of the Client’s, and still leave room
For an addition.
A walkway filled with stepping stones and gravel
For such a simple thing as walking,
I still had to walk away.
Taillights, Shallowford Rd, coin-op laundry, and new drivers;
I85-standstill, joggers, hawks, and new telephone poles;
County Lockup, Soul Food, car wash, and mowed grass.
I return to my kittys,
Enticing and inviting them to rise:
After all this, I am finally ready to receive their love :)
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