The Archives

Monday, March 2, 2009

new day

Waking, dozing
The world a groggy grey
Trees sway
Birds sing in a predictable order, taking turns:
The first whistles like an owner for his dog
The seconds starts in soon and
Magpie-like it trills its cell phone ring
The third moans and creaks in increasing crescendo
Somewhere out there an out-of-sync owl belts a random hoot
It’s morning
And I’m only half awake
My eyes just starting to open
My mind just starting to function
And the groggy grey sky peeps through cracked curtains
And the birds sing in their peculiar order
It’s a new day

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