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