greeted by the musty smell of yesterday’s bacon grease the familiar scrape of sliding glass and brass and the blast of hot air from an open oven
turn on the lights unlock the doors whining and whirring as coffee falls from the grinder chute the steam wands hiss water spits through the filter basket and i find myself awake
and standing with my elbows in a bin of hot water and soapy dishes the crust over my eyes loosening with the warmth and wet
flip the sign wave the flag the plates clank as i walk by
smile chat say the same lines i say every day toaster to register sink to grill
an autopilot person as the world spins
ivy on the brick walls turns red snow blankets the stone steps the streetlights stay on through the fog all morning
the picture windows rattle when the semis roar around the corner at night i lie awake and imagine them cutting the turn too close and crashing through plate glass
i can’t sleep not when morning looms so soon when the sky out the window will be black when i wake up
black when i eat dinner and gray whenever else i look
and it’s true i don’t have it as rough as some people
but that doesn’t mean it’s all so easy for me
i’ve found by living in the early morning i can achieve the same effect as staying up too late but with less negative consequences
but the things that are whispered when the world is still dark aren’t things to be whispered to the faint of heart