Tuesday, November 26, 2013

Winter Morning Routine


You start your morning 
in fleece pajamas
summoning the courage
to remove yourself
from the people-dehydrator
known as the electric blanket
that gave you reprieve from the night chill
and dreams of burning desserts.

Mental countdown complete
you burst forth in cannon shot
to land like a Ninja
jabbing your feet in darting thrusts
into strategically placed bedside slippers
and with a sweeping toreador pass
quickly wrap yourself in your wearable blanket - 
the bath robe,
resurrected from the back of the closet
and not worn since that summer morning
when you staggered outside to get the mail
thereby announcing to the neighbors 
you had a cold and would not be going to work.

You race in hurried snow-shoe-like shuffles 
across cold floors 
down the hall to the steamy shower
with only one quick stop 
to wake the slumbering furnace
so you can enjoy breakfast 
in your climate controlled kitchen
while you stare at images of “Real Florida Oranges”
and wonder what, if anything,
The Quaker has to do with oatmeal.

Standing at the doorway
ready to brave the cold brisk morning
you shudder slightly 
at the thought of your ice box car
and then, as it is done every morning, 
you deliver the declaration 
that the winter version of The Bermuda Triangle lives on:

"Where the hell is my other glove?"

Variations on this theme 
performed daily all across the world
yet sometimes
when I see pictures of people shoveling driveways
for the chance to have their cars 
dance a dangerous glide on slippery freeways
in winter-white scenes
I feel a bit embarrassed by us folks here in California
faithfully executing this winter morning routine
and all the while whining about 
51 degrees and cloudless skies.


Ken Owen   Van Niddy Press   November 2013

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