The Morning Within

I awake, caught up in the bed clothes,
bodies behind the plasterboard yawn.

I’m off of caffeine’s vainglorious psalms,
as rich as soil my granddad used to grow his spuds in.

Green tea is a quiet solution, a whisper
instead of a shout bellowing in the gut.

I forage under carpets and play the game of breakfast,
I swallow the crumbs which my standing brings

in the underhanded machinery of a housing estate.
The dog underfoot is expecting a different world 

to be out in the garden every morning- instead
the conifers are as still as a dying man, reed thin.

I put on my headphones to hear the world within,
an atlas of unexplored places searched with a stone in my shoe.

Grant Tarbard is an editorial assistant for Three Drops From A Cauldron and a reviewer. His new collection Rosary of Ghosts (Indigo Dreams) is out now.