The Sense of Smell

The smell of the coffee
helped open my eyes.
I lay on the pillow,
too weak to arise.

I struggled to waken
and get myself up.
The scent is like magic.
I must get a cup.

But first I must conquer
the steps out of bed
to get to the bathroom.
My feet are like lead.

At last I am ready
to head down the stairs.
One time I could do this
without any cares.

Each step is a nightmare.
Each jolt strikes a pain.
I’ll never drink Harvey
Wallbangers again.