Brewed Black Coffee

Slow Rise tone, iPhone alarm, toned out, 

By owl hoots first thing this morning at 6 o’clock, 

And not one minute past.  

Coffee and an old long sleeve pajama 

Shirt with a pocket to 

Carry compartmentalized curative 

Medication to the Kuerig, 

Situated and stitched with a logo 

That used to be cool many years ago, 

Now just good for cool mornings 

While these high, tree dwelling, dueling, sonorous, 

Echoing owl hoots sort of pray in their own, 

Please me way; making rhythmic, non-written-treatises 

Of who, who, ah-who, hoooo would have heard 

A humility prayer in the midst 

Of it for hacks and crooks; hooters and looters too? 

Hoo. Hoo, hoo. Who doesn’t despise all those 

People tooting their own horns nowadays?  

I look up to a picture of Mary 

With a hand gesture to the Lord baby Jesus 

And I feel that all is well, the sound of 

Great horned owls in the morning air; 

Balancing a cup of brewed black coffee 

Back to the command room where another 

Day of waged war against the horned devil 

Will begin with precise assaults and 

Persevering persistence; a loving 

Gift at prayer time from a small, undeveloped 

Wooded area; proof of His affection.

- Gary Edward Geraci