it’s early when the alarm goes off.
so early it’s still black outside.
(it will be hours yet before sun.)
you rub your eyes, take a deep breath,
pull back the covers, roll out of bed.
stumble to the door, the bathroom,
down the stairs, into the kitchen,
and there’s Momma. and the smell
of the coffee
that she brewed, knowing you’d be up
as early as she. hey bubba, she says.
g’morning Momma, you mumble back.
the coffee mugs are arranged, upside-down
& in a row,
prepared the night before, like always,
beside the line of spoons and tub of sugar.
you turn around, notice her sitting
quietly at the table, and smile softly.
her coffee in the morning! but she
also loves me, you think. & you’re right.
pour the coffee, then start shuffling
back to your room, eyes blinking.
looks up. smiles. says, see you soon!
yup, you respond. trying not to spill
on your way back up the stairs.
later, when you get to work, you find
a lime-green Post-It note in your lunch-
box that says: Have a great day, Bubba!
I love you! – Mom in large girlie hand-
writing. it’s stuck to some piece of candy
treat she thought you might enjoy.
it’s a day like any other, except it’s
nothing like what you’d expect & you
think to yourself: oh Momma… you
spoil me. but i love you, too.