Friday, July 01, 2016

My morning, a story told in Cinquains*

The cat
Wakes early and
P. ejects him from her room.
He prowls and into the 
Middle girls' room he goes. Mewing, leaping
and waking.

Those girls.
The light sleepers.
Those early wakers who
Tend to shriek and yell and play
very loudly.

Other
young and yelling
children wake at the sounds.
More waking, more yelling, more sound. 
It's six.

As in
Early morning.
My eyes closed, the cat trods
Upon my head as a walkway.
Glasses fall.

And break.
It's too early.
I give up and search for 
Coffee, that dark and wonderful
Liquid.

Much, much
Too early came
Waking, sound, and movement.
Too tired, both adult and child.
Cranky.


*Cinquain - a poet form of five lines with this pattern of syllables: Line 1 - 2 syllables; Line 2 - 4 syllables; Line 3 - 6 syllables; Line 4 - 8 syllables; Line 5 - 2 syllables.

1 comment:

Amy said...

Brilliant poetry! It made me and my kids laugh. We will have to write one about a thumping bunny that kept us up a few nights ago.

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