Again, sorry for late posts. This moving stuff has thrown me all off my game. Here is how I felt the morning after my first real night at the new house.
When The Coffee Drip Isn't Adequate
I've been in the fight
With the night before
I've been in the slurry
Of the morning after
When the eyelids rebel
Like pistachio shells
When the coffee drip
Isn't adequate
When head stays bent
In a prayer for strength
When the feet hug the floor
With every step from the door
I've been there before.
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