POETRY | EVERDAY LIFE | MENTAL HEALTH

It’s five in the morning

A poem

Photo by Nathan Dumlao on Unsplash

Sleep lingers in my eyes,
refusing to let the day in.
My brain reluctantly agrees
to make the daily plod to the kitchen.
Outside, slumbering shades of blue
cloak the gaggle of songbirds.
Inside, the cat stalks the tinkling wind chime
with a vengeance undeterred.
Groggy yet,
I put on a pot of coffee.
Expecting the usual four minutes
from bubble-hiss-fizz to nutty-aroma assault.
Except I’m met with weary silence,
everything around me fades to a halt.
My coffee machine is seemingly dead,
broken from the inside they said.
As I fret in woe, I ask myself-
aren’t we all?