guy howard

Life-essayist - sitting in California; writing Fact and Fiction, exploring language and  my view from Life's bridge. This  will be about PAINFUL and funny lessons and I will not be shy expressing my thoughts on the world i see.  

Lightbound

Light trickles in the lowest part

Of our second-floor bedroom window, grey

Giving way to warmth, ever so slowly.

 

I can hear the rumble, tumble of engines

In driveways revving

To start the day’s events

As light takes some of the shiver away from

letting the dog out, standing in sweatshirt and shorts

And sun just lighting my flip-flop cold bare feet.

 

He lifts his feet like a prancing

Lipizzaner not liking the dew and cold of the grass

As he makes his way to places he must go

Jumping and dashing back to house warmth

And breakfast as light starts tasting the

Upper leaves of the trees

 

Coffee, freshly roasted and ground

Sits in a cone shaped Chemex waiting

For the roil of boil and pour over

Then smell the fresh brewed

wafting through the house declaring the start of day

As gold light dribbles in the slider windows

and dances on the floor

 

The dog finishing his feeding frenzy,

Bounds up the stairs, landing lightly on the bed

Snuggling behind curved knees content to drift

Another hour or so until grey becomes bright

And the nip in the air is assuaged

 

A cup full of heat and smell and taste with

A dash of cinnamon and butter in one hand

A bowl of oatmeal with date sweetener, a banana

And a spoon balanced in the other, both warm to the touch.

I sit alighting my screen to battle with the grey,

life and warmth comes alive later here

on the shadowed side of the house

 

But I have 25 minutes to bring a poem to life by fingerstrokes

As the new sun begins to warm my shoulders

And light taps the corners of my desk

 

Time for a break and to break fast

I’m not sure I like standard time.

I am not your old man #8

I am not your old man #3