One of those Mornings

It's one of those mornings when my head has corners
and there's a dagger through one of them and i never had my cup of tea
because the timeline got messed up 

by the stewed apple for the kids' porridge being finished.  
So there was peeling and chopping and the fuzz of the boiling 
and the waiting and serving 

and then, just when I'm catching up, the kids take the dog walking 
and what do you know? Puppy escapes his harness and runs after a greyhound 
and we're all running and calling and diving. 

We're like land-lubbing seagulls diving for that wriggling, 
white,  puppy-shaped fish.  We walk to school after all of the muddle 
but even the shade offends my eyes;

it's so shifty and inconsistent and we meet people - you know - people I like -
but I just can't connect through the curtain of grumpiness that fell down overnight. 
But I have to admit, 

it's nice now just to sit here with words leaking out through the hole 'round the dagger
and the snore of the cat with the hum of a house that's empty of people
and my tea's by my side.