Blundering blearily

into the kitchen.

Boiling briefly,

my start to the day.

My thoughts wandered quick

away from the chicken

to places intriguing

and far away.

The world laid out

on the breakfast table

showed an island,

yellow and flat.

The urban yoke could

be dumped if I'm able,

for a solitary world

with just me and the cat.

I recall the people

of Eigg bought their island.

Egocentrically,

I am one of those folk.

But the mark on the map

was a splash, not a new land.

And sadly my island

was just a yolk.

Wiping my dream

with a wilting soldier,

I savoured the taste

of the final dreg.

New life must wait

until I am older.

Now off I go,

to work, on my egg.