Morning Palate Painting

Mornings can be interesting when you've got a couple of issues, a plate of colourful cereal and a wild bird that likes to kick at your windows.

the sun raises her head,

kisses my windows

as bird paws-

no-not paws, simply

feet, pause;

clip, click,

explode

against the glass.

 

inside, i am eating,

my cereal carefully divided

by colour. my spoon

small and silver and

smooth. each loop

carefully balanced, each

singularly

balanced, and tasted

always in order --

 

all of red follows

all of green follows

all of yellow follows

all of ...

 

you get the picture?

i'm painting with my palate

lest the flavours mix

lest the colours bleed

lest the windows

implode

with the sound

of birds' feet, pausing.

Author's Note

All polite/relevant reviews are welcome - especially constructive critique, but also including grammar and spelling corrections, although please bear in mind that the (lack of) capitalisation in this piece is intentional. And thank you for reading/leaving a review!

Reviews

[asdarkeyesclose]

now I like toast for breakfast! I liked the contrasts here between the bird hitting the glass (unusual/unexpected) and all the uniformity of the breakfast with its precise ordering- makes for excellent poetry :)