Pay Attention

"Night fever! Night feeee-ver!

We know how to do it!"

Bee Gees trumpet at sonic decibels

inches from my head.

Fumbling through the warm down cocoon

smacking through glasses, lip balm, tissues

my hand lands on the phone

and the alarm becomes mercifully dead.

Squinting at the feeble light

sneaking through the frost-dusted window

(forgot to close the storm windows... again)

I plot my day from the comfort of my featherbed.

First there'll be coffee, of course

bare feet on the cold tile floor

dancing to the tune of the cat

skritching the door, asking to be fed.

Feet tell me it's time for rag rugs,

time for Berbers, wool socks

fleece-lines boots, (maybe a pedi?)

to take care of my partners in tread.

My shoulders whisper "Velvet!"

my neck yearns for yarn hand-knit

my fingers seek waterproofed spandex

"Time for microfleece!" orders my head.

Our cat gets her food, then I

step through the door, bare feet protesting

as brittle leaves shatter between my toes

I'm alert now: begone you sleepyhead!

The maple, yesterday glorious

twirls leaves in its finger tips

sunlight coaxes the glitter to twinkle

future flights plotted amidst the branches overhead.

Here and there the crows mutter

squirrels chitter and trill

"You're disturbing our morning!"

Reproaches take off, magnificent wingspread.

There's still leaves to be raked

the garden to button up for the year

roses to cover, Autumn chores

to complete at our tiny homestead.

But first; coffee is calling

from my kitchen, warmed now

awake I've been reminded "LIVE!

don't be blind, life's not just existing, sleepyhead."