Everymorning's Chores

A Distant Train Whistle Everymorning’s Chores A baby cries, a distant train whistle blows, sounds of morning building momentum. Bacon sizzles, plates clatter, knives clink “tinilly” together, nostrils twitch awakening recalcitrant sleepers. Sunlight peeks through window slats, slashes of yellow paint across the drabness of “everymornings” chores. Boots stomp, raising dust better left in the field, children giggle, the coffee pot calls cadence for a morning’s minuet. Partners moving in smoothly choreographed darts and dashes, hot cake shuffle, coffee cup two step, maple syrup sidestep. Breakfast, simple and hardy, you did not carry it – it carried you - into the day. Rumble of truck, honk of school bus, good-byes, lunches, kisses, lingering waves. Warming sunshine fills the room, a baby cries, a distant train whistle blows. John G. Lawless 2/29/2016