Good morning, good morning,
we say as we pass
each other in the hall
between bathroom and beds
sleep still leaking
from our eyes
the sun just tapping
against the blinds
father and daughter
the two early risers
in a house of three,
counting pets seven,
this molasses dance
with a girl on the edge
of becoming someone
I won’t soon recognize
some morning
when saying good morning
is too much to bear.