It's Still Life

Those Free Absolutes

This morning’s sleep fell away into a different sphere, upward like grey smoke or fog lifting off an icy sea. And there was coffee, its scent humming through the air, and I grew more awake, stretched my clattering bones as the clock ticked away with cold clarity, in steps, by steps, by ticks, by tocks in that clear voice, and I pulled the sheets into my fingers, up around my chin, and dreamed of another minute. Maybe three. Such free absolutes are priceless.

Light through the curtains
That rooster crowed for heaven
Escape was denied

for dVerse Haibun #31