Poem for a Monday Morning

It’s Monday morning

🌅

Insecurities come rushing 

out of my mind 

like bats from a cave 

🦇🦇🦇

Despite their speed

they don’t disappear 

on the horizon

🌅

They dip and spin and swirl about, 

nearly getting tangled in my hair 

as I dip and dodge them,

waving my hands frantically 

to no avail

🦇🦇🦇

They keep swirling 

around my head: 

a black storm 

with flashing eyes 

🌪

Their shrieks resound in my chest—

my heart pounds 

slapped with the flaps of little bats, 

waiting to brave the bright air 

💔

I am suffocated but lonely 

💔

How can I be steady

and where is my hope

with these liquid wings of darkness 

painting my morning sky

with sinister storms?

🌪

A still, small voice pipes up:

☕️

Maybe it’s too much dark brew, sweetie…

How about a cheese croissant 

to go with all that coffee??

🥐

Pale Sky Breakfast Blues

It is early.

The sky stretches above the mountains

–pale, white, untouched–

a question unanswered:

What will we make of today?

It is too early for thoughts.

The sun itself has barely opened its eyes.

Only the toddler is noisy and cheerful

as he munches the insisted-upon breakfast:

peanut butter sandwiches at the break of dawn.”Num!”

Frootloops for Once

 

Some days

when you’ve been up and down all night

with coughing kids,

giving medicine and fruit smoothie,

rubbing Vicks on hot little backs,

tucking and retucking in,

the only thing to do

when they mysteriously get up extra early,

before the decent hour of 7 am,

is to start the day afresh

with Frootloops for once—

very healthy with all that ‘froot’—

and “The best breakfast ever,”

according to my three year old.

Maybe smiling will help the bad bugs go away.