Snoozer

Morning, the 
moment, the thinking,
the trying to decide
what foot hits the floor first —

the grounded one that clings to earth
as strongly as a root, or
the air-walking one, the one that climbs
any offered cloud or sunbeam.

When I choose instead to hover
an inch above the bed,
close to a surface but not upon it,
defying the expected authority of gravity,

my feet twitch, 
but only for the time it takes
to accept the delay
and return with me to sleep.