Early Sunday Morning by Joey Ng

Early Sunday Morning by Joey Ng

I used to awaken bright and early,

Barreling through my parents’ double doors.

I would nudge my mother and my father

And push down on the springs of the mattress,

Shaking my parents to and fro in a

Sea of warm, cozy, cotton comforters.

“Five more minutes” they would say, bracing their

Eyes against the harsh light of the young sun

Seeping through the cracks in the shuttered blinds.

Content with my badgering, I would plant

Myself in front of the television,

My baby blue blanket wrapped around me

Like a sultan’s finest embroidered robes.

My brother and I would watch whatever

We could on basic cable; Arthur if

We were lucky, Bob Ross if we weren’t.

I would hear the double doors  open wide

As my parents emerged from their bedroom.

My father would go fetch the newspaper

As my mother turned on the stove and set

Out plates, knives, forks, coffee mugs and napkins.

The sausage would sizzle as it heats up

On the black cast iron skillet, filling

The house with delectable aromas

Of maple and sizzling meat as sweet rolls

unfurled and eggs spatter on the pan.

This symphony ends with the sound of rich

Black tea cascading over a dollop

Of condensed milk melting in our mugs,

Disappearing within a tender swirl.

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Early Sunday Morning

BY EDWARD HIRSCH

I used to mock my father and his chums

for getting up early on Sunday morning

and drinking coffee at a local spot

but now I’m one of those chumps.

No one cares about my old humiliations

but they go on dragging through my sleep

like a string of empty tin cans rattling

behind an abandoned car.

It’s like this: just when you think

you have forgotten that red-haired girl

who left you stranded in a parking lot

forty years ago, you wake up

early enough to see her disappearing

around the corner of your dream

on someone else’s motorcycle

roaring onto the highway at sunrise.

And so now I’m sitting in a dimly lit

café full of early morning risers

where the windows are covered with soot

and the coffee is warm and bitter.