Just a child waking up in the wrong place,

I forget where I fell asleep until grandma sings

“Good morning, good morning, it’s time to start the day.”

The day starts a bit too early here, and I begin

Among bright yellow walls. Too cheerful for me,

Grandpa laughs. Grandma sings, but it’s morning.

And Grandma smiles while she drinks coffee.

I never did see her add a dash of milk,

Yet she smiles as if it’s so sweet.

Breakfast is made and my stepdad arrives. I think,

“My mom said he lives for schedules.” He’s never late,

And she’s right. He’s always there in time to drink

A cup of coffee with Grandpa, but we never debate;

We’re out the door when he says Reagan, Bush, or Republicans.

And I’m on my way to school before eight.

Years later, they move out, and we move in

And I don’t tell Mom she put the mugs in the wrong place.

I remind myself that change is not a sin

(Until I wake one morning with a new taste

For cheerful mornings I used to hate).