While I Brew My Coffee

The morning sunlight drapes itself across the kitchen table,

as if to say, "I have all day. Come rest upon my shoulder."

The wildflowers in a jar regard the sunlight most unkindly.

"Leave us alone. We'll soon be gone. Can't you see we're wilting?"

The apples in the bowl reflect the sun. They yawn and stretch indifferently.

"Leave us alone. We'll be gone. Nothing lasts forever."