Holding My Breath At 5 Am Poem by Bryan Riley

</>Holding my breath,
I put the cream
in my coffee...
drop by drop so
I can watch it swirl
into the shapes
which call me from
my half-baked reverie

The wind through the trees
tells a tale, like the
clacking of bones in a
pouch made of
animal skin

In the early morning hours,
the time of no shadows,
I'm awake before the dawn,
worrying about essential oils
and their possible contribution
to my well-being:
I mean, are they? Really?

-Not intrepid enough to
try on new flavors
: I'm still waiting for
the next exhale...