Morning’s prelude

I rise before the brilliant star in the East.

I tip toe in the twilight, trying desperately not to create a symphony of pots & pans clanging.

My head makes a hit.

See, my pupils are not enlightened and by design have not increased their viewpoints.

I meander to the toilet chamber to sit on the numbing throne.

I dispose of yesterday’s waste, then

Bow my head in reverence, as I scroll through the scattered stories and the weighted happenings of humankind.

45 minutes is gone and I am weighted in position.

I hoist my torso onto the sink to form a boomerang with my body parts.

I plank myself up,

And scold the mirror with menacing thoughts,

“This will be the last time I’ll sit on this toilet in wastefulness.”

Tingly sensations soothe my senses.

I stand up and greet the sun.

           My day has begun.

****

Until the next time – I adore you for reading my blog,

blogrochellesignature_18october2016

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2 thoughts on “Morning’s prelude

  1. […] Read my other poems. A Different Kind of Love Morning’s Prelude […]

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