I see him drive past ;
Misty morning,
Or is it my eyes ?
He slows down ,
Speeds away as i turn my head .
I know he has left
Her warmth
Not ten minutes ago .
She, in her usual way,
Has given him breakfast.
Triumphant in his shirt,
Buttons half done,
Maybe she yawned ,
As she tossed eggs.
Overeasy !
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