Sunrise Trials of the Occupant

By Ben Nardolilli

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Waiting for a morning to remember,

the mornings that I’m waking up to now

are cold, and forgettable,

there are times I’m excited and I rise

like a gust of wind from the bed,

other times, I slide out of the sheets,

like a snake made out of lead,

heavy, bulbous, and unable to see clear

Afterwards, the struggles are the same

with no surprises in between,

doors open and close, trains come and go,

the coffee flows into the cup

and I sit at the same desk as always,

I’m sure I did it today, and yesterday…

to be honest, I can’t remember

anything other than how the days all rhyme