The Morning Tangle

I walk and meditate, and I’m famished.

My husband returns from swimming laps.

With unplanned synchronicity

we take our places in the kitchen.

He hoards the cutting board,

slices a peach and banana.

I prepare coffee. We pivot for a

choreographed collision at the refrigerator,

him for almond milk, me for an egg and jam.

We exchange no words, for

we are dangerous before we eat.

With our preparations complete,

I covet his bowl of cereal and fruit,

and he eyes my lightly-over egg and toast.

Safely seated in a no-chatter zone,

we take favored newspaper sections.

Earlier I meditated on wherever I go, there I am.

My mantra shifts: wherever I go, there he is.

     (from Biting the Apple, Penciled In, 2012)

     (posted on Your Daily Poem)