Angry Issues

mixed up, a friendly dog passing, my mind seemed
relaxed, the road muddy with leftover
showers, each new rut punctuated by rivulets,
my own shoes brown, and my pant leg
sprinkled after the dog shook.
walking to town seemed
a fine idea,
a glorious awakening before battle,
a monotony destroyed before
explosions.
why did breakfast grow anger?
how could such a morning
build tension between scrambled eggs
and bacon?
the few things to be done were done.
the few items to be stored relegated.
the monstrous tempest built over
bread and butter, the toaster
burning my hand, the eggs
landing on the floor,
the bacon burning black.
easier to walk to town than continue
our talk, the whispered threats
and ancient troubles boiling.
no focus now but beauty, but a turn
reveals your car moving back down
the drive, then turning far away
from me, going
somewhere with the kids.