Rush hour snowstorm

Four-wheel ballet, cars
spin swirl glide across four lanes
trying to get home

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Morning alarm

Sleep clings, plastic wrap
strong, dreams passing for real while
phone sings otherwise.

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Winter sun

Summer is golden
butterscotch, January
skim milk, thin weak pale.

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Morning ritual

Light breaks. I heed the
call to darkness, cup rich black
magic in my hands.

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All nighter

Weighing sleep against
productivity, I write
into a new day.

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Laid off friend

Drops by at four, raids
the fridge, toasts unhappy hour
to his firing squad.

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On a cold winter’s night

Kitchen windows fogged,
oven-baked chicken is the
scent of homecoming.

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Afternoon rendezvous

She blithely sails out
the door. No explanations
save her secret smile.

Up all night

I would like to see
4 am start off my day
instead of end it.