Wednesday, August 6, 2014

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)

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