We wake to a photon of early light
pushing its nose through the curtains
upon a crusted eye, upon a dusted dream
spooned into the smallness of each other
our bigness binds, blooms in nuzzled sniff
until our bodies awake us to directions
divided, we prepare our church for ritual,
emptying the nocturnal holding tanks,
splashes and brushes, we’re a carwash
made spick and span — upholstered we are
creaking down the stairs we lubricate
our procession of two, waving at sunbeams
as we find our way to Manuel I, Mani, our
gleaming stainless steel espresso making titan,
and his boiler begins an awakening hiss
vitamins and pharmaceuticals push into palms
I cross myself with a ripe banana that rises
removing from its tomb, homemade life
cranberry, cashew, chocolate hazelnut biscotti
the Polish Bolesławiec saucer and bowl are set
organic milk is measured, its temperature climbs
as our Ascaso grinder burrs Fair Traded beans
their incense wakes our kitchen from slumber
each latte is born, adorned, dressed to taste
with teaspoons of turbinado or a honey kiss
and with each holy grail of morning made
we take our seats in front of the altar of worship,
our Saturdays, spent, as the boy sleeps,
a quiet communion shared on a sofa, connected .

∞

Submitted as part of “National/Global Poetry Writing Month” (#NaPoWriMo #GloPoWriMo).

Today’s prompt:  Day Eighteen:  the day also honors the idea of Saturday (the Saturdays of the soul, perhaps?), by challenging you to write an ode to life’s small pleasures.

30 Poems in 30 Days

All text and photography © Dale Schierbeck

…. more of my original Poetry on EatsWritesShoots here.