Hard Day

Hard day coming on.
Too much time last night
counting stars on my eyelids,
afraid to open my eyes
and admit I can’t sleep because of you.
Thinking of the poor proto-human who laid
in the grass under real stars
feeling the cold stone grow in his chest
for the blue eyed female he would never see again.
The first human heartbreak before the benefit
of science to explain
the cardiovascular system
His large human brain
knew where it hurt and why.
Two thousand generations later
I am no better off than
my flint chipping cousin
who woke one day
to discover mating season
is now all year long and
the scent in the air
is now forever in his large human brain
and knew that a life
spent in pursuit of
food and a place to sleep,
was empty without something
warm to sleep with.
So, cousin and I both
wake at dawn,
He, with spear and pouch,
I, with cell phone and wallet.
He stands on the river bank
Looking at foot prints left
by the blue eyed girl.
I thumb the phone book,
trying to remember
where you work.
The hunters move out
tracking the tender prey
that makes all else we catch
worth having.