POEM - On Certain Days

The mouthful of coffee
Is proof that I did not
Perish during the night -

That I was not
Assassinated
In my sleep by dreams

That forced my head beneath
The blankets long enough
To be entirely smothered.

Coffee and the reading
Of morning obituaries,
Like water added to

Freeze dried eggs is how I
Reconstitute myself
ready for another day.

M C Biegner
2/24/2006