An old life


Snow fell in the night.
At five-fifteen I woke to a bluish
Mounded softness where
The Honda was. Cat fed and coffee made,
I broomed snow off the car
And drove to the Kearsarge Mini-Mart
Before Amy opened
To yank my Globe out of the bundle.
Back, I set my cup of coffee
Beside Jane, still half-asleep,
Murmuring stuporous
Thanks in the aquamarine morning.
Then I sat in my blue chair
With blueberry bagels and strong
Black coffee reading news,
The obits, the comics, and the sports.
Carrying my cup twenty feet,
I sat myself at the desk
For this day’s lifelong
Engagement with the one task and desire.


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An old life