National Poetry Month, Poem a Day 3/30

Six months ago
my alarm clock
was a bird that sounded like a cell phone
coming from the giant Totoro tree in front of my house

I would wake up to the sounds of a mocking bird
mocking me, to think that my cell phone is ringing


So every morning, to the bird's windsong
i wake up
reaching over to my cell phone
thinking that someone is calling me

We all know that besides the barrage of texts
of vibrating thoughts reaching to hugs of back pockets
that the ringing of phone means something important

like a change of plans
or a change of status
or that someone you know is either

heartbroken

sick

wanting to vent and thumbs are too slow form words

needs to borrow something

or simply,

someone wanting to hear the sound of your voice
first thing in the morning.

that is until Louie

My alarm clock
is a petulant toddler
screaming bloody murder
to his German parents
in tune with the CooCoo clock

a cruel iambic pentameter of
waling,
coo coos,
and "Louie, whyyyyyy are you cryyyyying?"
in thick German accents

i now wake up to
wanting to console
the cries of a child
not mine.

and not being able to.