It has become an early morning habit.
I’m up first toasting bagels golden brown,
anointing them with rivers of cream cheese.
I cleanse a luscious Gala apple, remove
the inspection tag and with a paring knife,
slice the succulent orb in equal portions.
With a waiter’s towel draped over my left arm,
I take her plate bedside, then bring mine. We taste

lush Gala slices, let their juices seep
through our teeth, onto our tongues, then down
and down to who cares where. We muse about
the day, lay out a plan, but it’s mostly talk,
because we know we’re already in the day’s
best part: moments shared as in a sacrament.


© by Michael Escoubas.
Used with the author's permission.