I asked for coffee as the first bird woke-
I could hear him cooing over a lost mate,
Last year there were two.
and over the dripping of the fountain,
he eats, cooing and watching the skies alone.
For a sign
It is Sunday and it is too early.
(Whatever that is)
and I am thinking of eggy-weggs,
mixed with whatever.
and toast in the silence of a cooing and dripping
and a red sky.
My mate said just a few more minutes
and I started my own water.
Breakfast to follow...
Eduardo Barbudo, 1982 October