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.