Cracked at Dawn

She knew it was time, rubbing her eyes,
she woke from an all too real dream,
to face reality.

Gift wrapped in chill air
no floral wrapper or bow here.
Lidless, uncapped, and bleary-eyed,
she sought a course she’s followed,
time after time.

The stairs down
past the elaborate Asian tangle of
stylized flowers on the patterned runner,
toward a waiting, red teakettle.

It’s time, it’s time, you know it’s time,
the clock’s red-light flashed.
Her eyes twitch beneath their lids.
Consciousness imprints on a backlit screen.

See me, seemeeeeee
an interlude, a musical score, impresses
“Comma, comma, down doobee, doobee, down
comma, comma …

Fresh water fills the kettle.
High heat, hot, too warm
feed the cat,
repeat.

She rubs her eyes a satin eye pillow cants
and falls to the floor.
Managing to actually move this time,

she presents herself
to the morn.

***

Deborah Guzzi writes full time; when she’s not reading. She is a candidate for the 2015 Science Fiction Poetry Association’s Rhysling Award.  She travels for inspiration. Her new book The Hurricane is available now through Prolific Press. Her poetry appears in: Existere – Journal of Arts and Literature and Scarlet Leaf Review, Canada – Tincture, Australia – Cha: Asian Literary Review, Hong Kong, China – Eunoia in Singapore – Vine Leaves Literary Journal in Greece, and Ribbons: Tanka Society of America’s Journal, Sounding Review, Kyso Flash, Bacopa Literary Review, The Aurorean, Crack the Spine Literary Magazine, Liquid Imagination, Concis, The Tishman Review, Page & Spine and others in the USA.