Yet another day dawns . . .

Sitting in early spring chill,
tracking the fall of a wan, crescent moon
by the speckled gooseflesh crawling slowly up my forearms
I clutch greedily at the warmth of steam escaping cream-infused coffee.

Sitting in early spring chill,
tracking the gradual spread of pale pink
by the stops and starts of early birdsong, gracious greeting
I clutch cold toes together, burrowing earthworms who seek sanctuary.

Sitting in early spring chill,
tracking the rumblings of a waking world
by the distant rush of tires, growing from solo to symphony
I clutch my stomach tightly as gurgling rumbles in supposed emptiness.

How surprising that yet another day has dawned.

Advertisements