Stretching out with garbled yawn
Rising, slumping back to bed
The smell of another day and dawn
Inside the kettle’s steamy head
Thought clouds, smokey and opaque
Drift upwards from the hissing throat
Collide with ceiling, smoosh, remake
Wandering, swirling, playing, float
Evening light casts woolen shaddows
Stretch like cats across the walls
Flashing fang and claw staccatos
Stalking slowly mewing calls
Proudly standing, readymade
The table, the bed, the sitting chair
Into well-worn paths pervade
Seem to breath the quiet air
Craquelure 