Sun is up and I am not soon to be up with it
as much as I welcome its arrival, indeed, herald it.
I look out the window, amazed at my amazement.

Between two and five, the danger hours, naps offered
an illusory sense of rest; getting off the sofa
to turn off my alarm only intensified my sense of isolation.

Ron having gone to bed hours ago, is already up. I laughed
to myself to hear his rustling, and smiled to see his face.
Creature of habit, he’s never used any alarm but his own body.

I had already filled the coffeemaker’s vessel and while Ron
washes his face, I scoop coffee into the basket; ironic I won’t
be staying up long enough to share a, well, more than a half-cup.

Ron’s making me breakfast, which he’ll place in the microwave for later.
I smell the coffee, still listening to Dylan, and look forward
to visiting our windowless bedroom where forbidden is the sun.