You sleep till late,
while I wake early
and wait
for the slumber leading from
the excesses of
Saturday night
to end.
Or sometimes keep
peeping into our bedroom, while
getting ready, watering the plants,
feeding the cats.
Looking in, at you sleeping,
like you do,
your nose buried in your pillow.
Smelling like you do,
(as I keep telling you)
like a rubber balloon.
Waiting for you to wake
up. So I can see your searching
eyes, looking for me
to kiss your sleep away.
And then you sit
up in bed, wanting
your hot cup of strong
sweet tea, and the news
of the day.
And after that first
kiss of the day,
I go back to getting ready,
watering the plants, feeding
the cats, and waiting
for the next one that comes
when you’re getting out
of our bed, and starting our one day
together.