It was the wind this time, waking me at 3
as it railed against the garage as it were intent
on digging the whole thing up. Hours later,
crumb cake in the oven, bacon on the stove.
The world, it turns out, hasn’t ended just yet.
There is still time for a cup of coffee,
breakfast, your face turned toward mine,
our eyes playing at each other. “Kiss me, you fool”
they’re saying, and the wind stops
long enough to listen.