This is by far
my favorite time of
all this early morning
when strangers lovers friends
and the city itself
awaken to each other
to coffees and me
it’s a time of
eggs and of percolators
of showers clean clothes
of yawns and stretches
and for me words
it’s the time when
the low east sun
dabs the cold cheeks
of skyscrapers with rouge
making them simply bloom
like long tall daffodils
and when almost everyone
including the mountains sky
says their good mornings
Category: Friendship
MondayMorning
The pavement is wet
and puddled like the
faces of freshly scolded
children as cars speed
their damp tails wagging
behind as they go
The skies open and
rain pours down like
early AM shoppers on
black Friday as people
dodge and dash trying
though hopelessly to remain
dry such is Monday
Voices
Voices are the one
thing that I miss
much like the rustling
of fall leaves when
snow begins to swirl
or the sound of
absent summer swimmers when
Autumn’s chilly winds blow
But the voice I
miss most is mine
when I stop listening
to my own advice
MaestroPlease
My life is a polka: One step forward and two steps back. But eventually I’ll get to where I’m going.
MorningsBallet
With coffee on board
and dressed in jammies
I settle down to
watch the kaleidoscope morning
sky spin and twirl
with the same unabashed
excitement as schoolgirl
ballet performers unashamedly free
if I listen closely
enough I can hear
giggles of glee as
the clouds open to
sunlight like those same
children’s smiles upon hearing
the applause from parents
and siblings and friends
Oh that coffee’s hot
What a marvelous morning
