Morning in Wintertime

Awake again, only the sky has not changed.  
Every hour looks the same.
The instant coffee crystals of time
Melt in hot water till I can’t remember
If days ever had edges. 
I contemplate dissolution myself,
Until the gentle purring
Of deadlines over my shoulder
Turns to incessant growls,
Clawing me back.
From The Sunday Muse #189

***

Written for Twiglets, FOWC, RDP, MVB=Prompt#129, MVB-Prompt #130, and The Sunday Muse

62 comments

  1. Like the bunny-boiler in Fatal Attraction, kitty will not be ignored! Yikes.

    Hey…I have started doing a weekly word list prompt at my blog, if you’d like to try your hand at it. It’s currently the second post down, but is active thru Friday. It would be awesome to have you there.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Fantastic poem. I love the imagery of trying to remember whether days have edges in the sameness of winter darkness like instant coffee dissolving. Deadlines have a way of growling more than purring. Wife just interrupted to talk about her queer reading of Beowulf. Did you know Beowulf was gay? Something to contemplate in your dissolution.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Good point. I’ll admit I only used “purring” to link to more prompt words. Screw purring, the deadlines are gnawing off my leg over here.

      Yeah, between the winter darkness, working from home, and my own deeply screwed up sleep habits, it’s really easy to miss the edges of the individual days.

      I did not know Beowulf was gay. I have learned something!

      Liked by 1 person

  3. I hate the feeling of things being the same but then being forced to attend to something I really don’t want to. It’s like you have all of this time but really no time at all, you’re losing out on something meaningful.

    Liked by 1 person

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