One minute morning

My eyelids drag themselves apart and widen one minute before the alarm sounds.
I catch it at the first beep before it wakes her, reset it for twenty minutes time.
I leave it on the pillow as I return to the softest of kisses and skin.
Yet one train has already been missed and even the cushion of snooze
cuts short caresses with little miss dopey eyes.
Sliding on clothes I slip away home into the morning.
Frantic with depression at ensuing preparation for the day.

The tears of nothingness stream as I shape towards the irrelevance of working life.
All with false haste, important hours are laid to waste by a life of illusion.
Because nothing is ever perfect and dreams are strangled by reality.
I am still plagued by premonition - as must be those that appear to me as I sleep and wake.

I arrive on the platform with a minute to spare before the last chance train,
A minute that could have been filled by sleep or kisses is widened by signal failures.
My trouble, effort and intention are lost again to delay and inaction.
More minutes this morning go astray as the day drips toward the solemn and dark, already.