breakfast in germany. a poem.

morning.
achy bones, dusty eyes.
sun comes in too hot,
makes us sweat, makes washing even more tardy.

coffee.
dark brown, no milk.
drips down the cup,
adds color, ignites the talk-engine.

chairs.
4 or 5, maybe six.
wait to be filled,
with refreshed yawns and pajamas.

bread.
a basket, and heaping.
butter all over,
with chocolate and honey at the ready.

morning.
slow thoughts, slow thoughts.
close the curtains,
let's sit a while longer.