Bacon.

Thanks to @NathanHuman and @Orbette

Notes,
studied on the refrigerator door.

The cold hum,
drowned
by breakfast’s gleeful crackle.

Crisping, a glistering foam.
Dark fat.

Smoke gently billows
and mounds,
pillows of soft grey
lit by morning’s milky white
milk-light.

A window opens.

The world comes in
and pulls the smoke away,
throwing scents of morning
across lawn
and yards.

One house stirs,
roused.

Breakfast awakes.

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