Morning Grace

Morning Grace

I eat and read in the quiet morning,
muesli with walnuts and almond milk
blueberries floating on top.
Only the occasional bird call
or hum of a distant car
accompanies my progress
to the bottom of the bowl
where I slurp each spoonful noisily
(feeling slightly wicked)—
it’s something I would never do
if you were here
though you’ve been known to do it
and I’ve never said a word,
not     one    word.
(You might still bear the marks
from my poison glances, shot repeatedly
in your direction.)

But ah, the freedom of early morning,
listening to the duet of the mourning dove’s
coo against my noisy slurping
as you lie in bed
ignorant of my
cave woman manners,
a guilty exception to
my usual impeccable grace
that has never wavered in our
fifty long years of marriage.

Well, perhaps a teensy bit,
but I doubt it.
I doubt that very much.

Author: Julie Cook

Photo: Elana Selvig on Unsplash

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