Morning Wistful - 6-8-2007 while smoking a cigarette

The cat sprawls by a hammock
in the backyard.

A hazy sun inches
through morning fog.

I look down
to the dewed ground,
Up to boisterous,
innocuous clouds,
to the neighbors
depressed wooden shed
past the rusting chainlink fence,

a car engine starts,
wheezes
like an asthmatic feline,
the clinks of a bike derailleur,
a good-morning-bye-bye
from a husband and wife
I've never said hello to.

The cat eyes hawkishly
a cardinal
well out of his reach.

Mist rises.

A circular argument, I believe.
I breathe in the scent of grass.

Two cups of steeped tea
wait on the kitchen counter.

as I hear your feet
stomp
towards the front door
and the heavy click
of the deadbolt
locking.

Why is it I know nothing of this life?

 

Reviews

[Penlady]

I went from early morning soft breathing to a thumping heart wanting you to know the life you haven't known. Wonderful writing.