Mornings

By Carter Cormier

Drowsy slow seconds 

Dragged down by heavy minds

Coffee is lackadaisical 

Sipped slowly through a daze

I teeter up the steps of consciousness 

And the stairs up to my bedroom

The unceasing cycle of routine 

Smooths out the mind’s wrinkled sheets

It prepares us for a day

In which we yearn to fall back asleep