each morning
I awaken inside
two narratives

one—
coffee’s dark perfume;
bacon hissing in the pan;
eggs sliding
sunny side up;
my wife’s smile
spilling across the table—
all of it,
home

the other—
unseen,
a cold pressure
behind the eyes:
the black
unbreathable
weight
of the nothing
that is

Selected byJenn Zed
Image credit:Richard Bell
Michael Acker

About the Author: Michael Acker lives in Vancouver, British Columbia. He has lived in various parts of the world; his early education was in German and French(Munich, Germany).  Mike enjoys writing short poetry, especially with the intent of exploring the possibilities latent in a single image.