Even if it is the perfect time for 

Your intrepid morning coffee,

It's not so great for the threads of wonder

That spun in your mind last night

But eventually helped you to K.O

With some aid from your computer humming.

 

Even if you enjoy a morning alone,

With the altissimo screech of the cicada 

Casually interrupting your train of thought

As if it gave you a piercing "I don't care!"

When you'd sigh, thinking complaint after complaint 

You don't like the sounds your house makes

Compared to the sounds she could make 

Mostly her laugh and how she'd growl at you. 

 

Even if you mull and chew over

What rattles your brain

This always hits you hard:

 

You can't turn some backyard rock into the moon.

 

And you realize your fearless mug isn't so tough

And the coffee in it has gone cold.

 

Because she'd always say, "I don't want any." but finish your cup anyway.