Thursday, March 13, 2014

Early Riser (Poem 346)

Caramel colors glint in the sweating glass
That waits, hidden, behind the pumpkin-
Cookie jar; still dark, but morning comes
    upon us fast,
Gray and mysterious, louche figures
    lighting the trees, draped
Over branches and curled like cats in the
    bushes' dark undersides.
Behind the yellow gingham curtains, a
    cherry-red lamp burns,
Casting its warming smile over
    generations of memories that hide--
Barely out of sight--each patiently
    waiting, fluttering out in turn. 
Smoke rises in plaits from the cigarette
    she holds,
Affecting what she once imagined an
    elegant stance,
Palm turned upward near her chin, her
    elbow folds
Neatly against her side. Yawning,
    entering, I catch the merest glance
Of shadows in her eyes, before she 
    turns, beaming, to kiss me, and to say,
"Good morning, Morning Glory," coffee
    pot in hand, her ghosts now safely 
    locked away.

(c) 2014, by Hannah Six

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