Morning Logistics.

Baby answers cooing bird on vine
Copper and bronze ignite the sea

House yawns in preparation for the day
Boards sings the song of naked feet

Breakfast smells and wagging tails
Baby fed and others rousted from their beds

Taps run, cistern fills as pipes sing
Post box delivers news of the outside world.

Steam rises, bright eyes and burnt hair
Calls, last calls, final calls and cries of care

Toast in rounds pops and drops, dangle
From mouth as hands see to buttons

Cries and calls in the hall, goodbyes
Lips collide and doors close. Bang.

Peace accompanies early sun
Baby giggles, eyes alight with fun.

.

© Dave Kavanagh @ daithiocaomanaigh.com

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