Fall Morning Treats
by hil hoover
(wanderinghil on twitter or bluesky, I'll try to comment around when my health allows, love you folks!)
It’s been a long night, hasn’t it?
The kind where we speak everything
that we haven’t thought to say
to each other before,
or maybe wanted to but never
had the words
because life can be that way sometimes
when you wish you knew what you wanted
but just… don’t.
The donuts are nearly stale,
grocery store fare, nothing
special but for the seasonal
flavor of them, the pumpkin spice
of it all, the old humor video we play
on my phone as we wait
on the aeropress, because
we can’t have pumpkin spice
without needing our defender,
our knight in shining comedic
armor to remind us
it’s okay.
the apples from the tree outside
fry up in the pan for the sake
of my weird allergies
- cooked is fine, raw is not -
with vanilla, cinnamon, nutmeg,
and more butter than anyone ought
to have in one sitting
but look,
you’re already dead and
winter is coming,
I’m going to need
this fat, aren’t I?
and it’s a beautiful
sunrise
if only it didn’t mean
that ghosts had to
return to wherever
they spend their
days
and those of us
with lives to live
ought to get back
to the living
of them
(maybe I’ll
have just one more
cup of coffee
with your memory
before I do)
Incredible. This made me feel way more than I usually feel at 8:19am on a Monday when I read this and that is not an easy feat. <3
Every. Single. Line of this. Is perfect.
I want to say something more than just "wow" but I'm lost for words. A perfect poem.
This is so poignant and cozily haunting. I love it.