by Toni G.
It’s 6:57 Sunday morning and the birds are chirping
outside my bedroom window ceaselessly.
Silencio por favor, I yell with the worst Spanish
accent ever, hoping that words in a language
more beautiful than English will sway them to my will.
It doesn’t work, and I blame my junior high school
Spanish teacher for not molding me into be a better
language student.
The bird choir is now reaching a crescendo and I
stifle myself with my down pillow, blocking out
the final seconds of their triumphant song. With
my pillow safely replaced beneath my weary head,
I roll onto my right side and exhale. Two seconds
after closing my eyes, my husband walks into
the bedroom with a cup of tea in hand, pokes
me as he asks if I’m awake.
Toni G. writes poetry and short fiction. Additional work may be found at Right Hand Pointing, Anti-Heroin Chic and Theta Wave. Follow her on Twitter @thedimpledpoet.
(And don’t miss Toni’s Sleep and Jelly Beans. – Elephants Never)