Good Morning

Good Morning
In the sink the cat’s dish gets a swish.
The dregs need rinsing
from yesterday’s coffee.
The kettle needs filling.
The pilot light clicks then whooshes
 into flame, and turns the copper bottom red.
In the tub, three minutes for the sponge bath
end
just in time for the kettle’s whistle.
Damp feet step gingerly beneath a bath towel.
The filter sits in the cone,
the cone on top of the carafe,
 the coffee, one half cup, in the cone.
Steamy the water that falls on the coffee,
then the scent of beans
The cat begins to eat
 The day can now begin
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About Patricia Markert

Moviegoer.
This entry was posted in morning, poem. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Good Morning

  1. I love this poem – it makes me want to make a dance to go with it…
    Penelope

  2. Thank you, Pen. I would love to see that dance.

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