With the same loud steps
I walk down the stairs
Ruffled hair with 
'The Simpsons' boxers.
He hands me a bowl of cereal
A carton of milk
Same old everything.

The paper he reads has tragedies
Nothing new and news of some celebrities.

But he does not speak today
Passionately of the world's affairs
His arms do not fly around
As he frames a new foreign policy.
He has his glasses on
Strange for a man who has
Never found them in the mornings.

There are eggs.Nicely done!
Coffee and tea and bread and buns.

I am fully awake and aware
Of the ruffling of the paper.
He puts it down,gets up
Says nothing.
A minute later with hardly 
A look exchanged
He locates his keys and leaves.

I know he loves me terribly and is sad.This I acknowledge.
For I would be leaving him alone the next day to attend college.