Talk about the feel
The distance and soft leather
That you’ve never touched
In advance of the rooster’s dutiful proclamation
And the bitter coffee’s been brewed just for me
Joy!
Even before the Sun slinks forth to perform my favorite dance
I’ve been wrapped ’round and awakened
Some morning
I failed to answer
When I was quizzed about you
In a recent dream
If asked now, I’d cry:
“You’re posing the wrong question.
He’s always showed up.”