Waking up on a misty morning
As hard as I try, I can never —
take myself out of the equation —
out of the script —
The page crumpled —
discarded on the floor —
waste basket missed again —
Too short —
my stretch to find the perfect —
something —
Desperately switching —
from Pen and paper –
to speeches spat out —
Hot coffee —
scalding my mouth —
words change everything between us —
This morning words play hide and seek in the mist —
obscured by low hanging clouds —
Until coffee is brewed —
The sound of it —
rushes in my veins —
Neither food nor sustenance —
It focuses me —
Like the sun reaching out —
touching each leaf, each bough —
Until I am of this world again.
Alyse Sammarco
June 4, 2021