#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream
The 7 a.m.
“A train whistle is heard.
The Stage Manager takes out his watch and nods.
So…another day’s begun.”
Am I the first to rise at dawn
no, the brown dog sneaks off my love seat
no surprise, hears my feet and springs
and the yellow one trots behind us down the stairs
for kibble under leftovers while my French Roast steams
in the kitchen quiet, then, down the stairs are barefoot girls - no, women
in sweatpants, t-shirts, half open eyes, at the faucet
filling water bottles for out the door toward
jobs on a farm across town start early
my husband is dressed, asking for coffee
to carry on his way to his 7 a.m. meeting
two pans of greasy are left on the stove
glasses, unwashed, by the sink
who has washed one pot, left it to dry
all the soda cans of excess to recycle rest
on foggy glasses and all of this mess
I used to mind when I preferred to stay and scold
now order will not be restored, how I love my life
my feet map disorder in woods
wandering me for as long as until
All photos and words copyright Kelly DuMar 2016
