Wednesday, February 3, 2010

five a.m.

in the morning
when he wakes up,
he shakes the dream
of her out of his head.
he finds the bathroom,
shuffles to coffee,
lifts a cold paper
from the stoop
while it's still dark
out. the dog is asleep,
he's got time. and
then the hot shower
and he dresses, he
finds his watch, his
wallet, his phone
and keys, lets the dog
out back, then back
in to a handful of food,
some water, pats him
on the head and locks
the door behind him.
and while he drives
the almost empty
road, hot coffee in his
hand, he goes back to
the dream of her, and
how it might have been.

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