The Second Coffee
Boy (what we call him, not his real name) is always going outside just to see what's about. Ice is a particular fascination. He has a natural scientific curious exploratory type of mind. We found some human bones once, but we were exploring an abandoned church crypt.
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Signs of this family rousing
From sleep; Footsteps
Toilet flushes, mumbling
Retraced steps for things forgotten
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Cereal bowls take their
Morning journey, cups swoop
From hooks, kettle flies
To tap and back, spoon tray clatters
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Dog stares it is her Jedi mind
Trick to get breakfast
Every morning her bowl is
Replenished, clever mind trick
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Washing machine jaw opens
On a side hinge, dirty clothes
Stuffed in to rumble
Through the belly drum
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Second coffee. Around this
Percolated calm, problems arise
But the lost trousers will be
Inevitably, in the airing cupboard
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Other lost items materialise, such as shoes
Drying on the hearth-stone, and they are
Found to be not in the place they were left
And no, forgetfulness cannot explain it
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Second coffee, sip by sip, takes all this
Morning flounce in comfortable strides
Across this most familiar landscape, still
Can enjoy the cantankerous scenes
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I watch them repeat my mood-skip
On seeing the mist, the tide of which
Has slipped down, but one can still, with
Vividness, conjure pictures of sailing ships
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Washing machine ruminates
Boy ventures out to look for ice
He finds a piece of discarded mouse
He observes it as a right hindfoot
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Above the vapour haze, heavenly
Blue unbounded, a band of bright
Atmosphere ties the world up
Proffers today as a gift
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The Boy