Morning

 

The sun rises
despite the best efforts of the clouds.
A new day introduces
itself.

I crack the eggs,
mixed with sage and milk and sea salt
And some shredded cheddar
when I’m feeling fancy.

The butter sizzles
against the potatoes.
They turn brown
before my eyes that watch.

The plate waits, with a handful of spinach leaves
to the side.

Not the donut sticks
and neon green soda in the car on the way
from earlier adulthood.

Instead, sophisticated Twinings’ tea bags
steep in a Thai mug.

The years
a very different person makes.

New mercy.
Fresh, every day.

Like the sun,
And the eggs.

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