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Floorboards
by © Mark M. Dean
I’ve always
prided myself on my exit plan
My daily
routine
Sliding out
of bed with the utmost stealth
Not to wake
the true love of my life
Who truly
loves waking to the birds softly calling
The sun
gliding up on the eastern horizon
Peaking in
to see if you’re awake
like a child
on Christmas morning
Collecting
my crumpled-up PJs from the bathroom floor
Still
smelling like beer
popcorn
husks along for the ride
I’ve made it
to the door
the dog
lifts one eyelid and settles back into her pillow
Houdini is
almost free
The bedroom
door swings to its designated position
a noiseless
accomplice to the escape
Selecting my
route down the long wooden hallway
Knowing the
walled edges are less boisterous
Slowly I
step onto the thin ice,
Sifting my
weight from heel to toe as I stalk my prey…
Silence
NO, NO, NO!
The
floorboards are in a jovial mood this morning
Belting out
a loud chorus of “Halleluiah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah!”
Imitating the
St. Patrick’s Cathedral chorus on Easter Morning
I hear my
love shift, the dog perks up
The
floorboards continue their “Ode to the Morning”
I head for
the coffee pot
my plot
foiled
But hope
springs eternal
As I make a
date with the floorboards
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