Early Morning

I wake up with a poem in my head.

My cat rubs his fur about my face,

As soon as I open my eyes,

Soft and firm.

I get up, not quite ready

The early morning light

licks at the edges of the room.

I want to make coffee

And get that poem written down

Before I forget

What I am doing in the dark,

Outside the rain falls

It is melancholy on the roof.

The air is warm,

The coffee is bitter on my lips,

Good bitter,

Like sarcasm,

Or winter rain.

Dot my i’s and cross my t’s.

The day is grey,

Subdued and embracing,

Like a hug from a dear friend.

The light is brittle

I don’t turn on a lamp,

It would only spoilt it.