Watching The Day

An egg yolk sun shuddering purple rises,

Pasting the immediate horizon sky viscous orange,

A paler grey blue covers the greater expanse,

Where the dark shapes of the early risers flap away,

Their squawking symphony a reminder of life’s plans,

Waking thoughts thrust aside the fugue of sleep,

The bones crackle as muscles yawn with rubbery tautness,

The light is upon us it cannot be but denied,

By squinting eyes that would not see to it bidden,

Dawn so incredibly fixed in its breaking ways,

Coming with such supremacy its glory in its savage rays,

Slicing swathes of warmth like the smiles of golden children,

Tickled and subdued into serenity like the reflecting dew drops,

Soon to be gone into the thin air that breathes,

Calling this day beckoning to me too,

Alive and well I walk into it…


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