Morning
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.
15 thoughts on "Morning"
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There is such nice music in “sleep still leaking/ from our eyes/ the sun just tapping/ against the blinds” and I also really like “this molasses dance.”
This one is quiet.
I like ” the two early risers
in a house of three,”
That introspection in the middle.
Great inside voice.
Love to mordant humor in this, Bill. That ending stings a little.
I wish I were as tuned in to the ordinary moment as this poem is
Very often (as I did after reading this) I let out a big sigh after reading what you have to say. This poem is in the “big sigh” category.
Excellent way to describe my frequent response as well
the ending is like waking up a second time, and what Linda said.
Becoming someone I soon won’t recognize….hard to let them grow up and fly the nest! Lovely!
Brought tears to my eyes! I had just taken a break from writing about my own daughter and our morning experiences. That frustration and rushing sure dwindles with the recognition and burdens of truth you share in your last lines.
As always, love your story telling-like style. I am always hooked.
a master
piece
of the stagecoach of life
“Sleep still leaking from our eyes. Damn, Bill. You have a telling metaphor. Pick the poem, it’s there.
What Jim Lally said!
This is so well said!
“this molasses dance
with a girl on the edge”
This so captures my relationship with my father when I was a teenager. Thank you.
this molasses dance
with a girl on the edge
of becoming someone
I won’t soon recognize
Just WOW.