Waking Up is Hard to Do

cockrels tread through slumber,
leaving it somehow intact
as sunlight streams through cracked curtains,
the dream still plays on.
Rolling over in the warmth of incubation

and then,
when the shield of sleep is shattered,
just as you were going to…
a sudden eruption of high pitched
electronic hammers deliver their message

get up!
Get up!
Get Up!
GET UP!!!

What will it be today -
a quick jump out of bed
and a race down the stairs?
Or,

a reluctant, dragging, slothlike lurch
to quieten those tormenting hands,
only to go back to the warm womb,
the tomb of a prosperous day with
hours wasted away,
safely drugged in the covers

fill the kettle, feed your cup
a teabag, a little sugar, a bit of milk
time to brew, take a sup
got that sweet wake up call,
with a bowl full of oats and fruit
dried, but whetting your taste buds.

Fuel for the furnace,
firing the two legged engine,
your breakfast sparking the mind as you
numbly flick through the radio stations

rinse the bowl
put the cups on the side,
still too groggy to ride
you step up to clean your teeth,
get dressed and collect
your yawning thoughts,
overdue books and lunch
stopping only to put on your shoes.

Check the front door,
check the windows, turn the radio off…
got your lights?
Lock the door, load up and
unlock your bike

is that door really locked?
…yes,
now, you can ride!