Morning People

 

Some people…

Awaken…

Pick up a cup…

Of freshly brewed Coffee…

Throw open…

The french doors…

Curtains a-flutter…

In the soft, warm, breeze…

Smiling…

Gliding…

Out onto the sunny veranda…

Amid the chirping birds…

 

Me…

i sense trouble…

One eye…

Flickers…

Threatens…

To fall out…

And roll across the floor…

There’s a cave bear…

Clawing his way…

Into the tent…

i slay him…

With my penknife…

And gulp a mouthful…

Of his warm, flowing blood…

Crawling…

Out of the tent…

There’s a raging ice storm…

I jam…

Fingers and toes…

Into the crevices…

Climbing…

Straight up…

For the next three hours…

Finally…

Reaching the top…

The zen master…

Hands me a bucket…

Of lukewarm…

Black Coffee…

 

©2016, Mike Kling