Anyway, the last prompt at NaPoWriMo for this year was:
Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem about something that happens again and again (kind of like NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo). It could be the setting of the sun, or your Aunt Georgia telling the same story at Thanksgiving every single year. It could be the swallows returning to Capistrano or how, without fail, you will lock your keys in the car whenever you go to the beach.
I decided to write about morning. After all, it happens everyday!
In the a.m. of Everyday
Every different morning,
yet the day always tastes the same,
Robbins swing from tree to tree
like high-strung marionettes,
school buses and big rigs
choreograph their signals
at cross-ways where businessman
pause on sidewalks to shift
the heady hands of their briefcases.
The elderly man across the street
allows his dog to gallop along
the rivers edge, Spring breeze
lifting cloud from the edge
of the sun like a pagoda-shade
pushed to the wayside of the window
where I watch the world wake up,
coffee spilling across my lips
as the cat murmurs in his feline language
and licks my ankles as if to say
'we were meant to greet this day together.'