Sunlight bursts its way through the curtains
I’ve pulled tightly shut and rolls my reluctant
body out of bed, cursing and grumbling
the whole way down an hour and a half
after my alarm went off.

Shower in a fog, dress haphazardly,
and stumble down the stairs, tripping
on the last two steps (the first one’s
crooked). Turn on the coffee machine
and push down the lever on the toaster.

Sunbeams stream into the dining room
and I sit down. Inhale the hyacinth
in a small glass vase with daffodils.
Listen to the coffee machine humming.
Take out a book. Close my eyes. Breathe.