I wake  
earlier than usual,  
padding gingerly across  
the dusty, sunlit 
pine floor
toward the kettle  
and the promise  
of the morning fixer.

I wait,  
gazing through the steam  
at the hazy dawn.  
Some are already awake,  
their shiny black caps dipping
in and out  
of the glimmering waves.  
  
One already stepping 
onto the shore—  
the evolution of the species;  
it would take 
another billion years  
or so more  
to become.