This is the light that greets me when I slip out to the kitchen early in the morning to heat water for my cocoa. I open the back door and listen to the quiet. I drink in the cool air, the pale apricot sky. I’m always stalling a bit; in a moment I’ll have to sit down and start work. The hydrangeas are paler this year than the vivid sky-blue petals of last summer. In the big crumbling clay pots on the patio, the coneflowers and anise hyssop are in abundant bloom, all pinks and orange. The dahlias are thinking about getting around to flowering. A ripe blueberry here and there. Cosmos tall under the bird feeder. The neighbor’s rooster crows, the early train rumbles by in the distance: all these soft alarms telling me it’s time to get to work.
On August 11, 2018 at 11:09 am
On August 11, 2018 at 2:23 pm
It’s almost as if I am there with you. Thank you for this moment.
On August 11, 2018 at 4:56 pm
Susanne Barrett says:
Aaaah, a prose poem to the early morning–I love it!!
Now if I could break my night-owlish tendencies and get to bed at a sane hour, I would love to awake to the early morning rather than going to bed at two-ish.
But then, I could always write a prose poem to the midnight moon…. 😉
Thanks for this! It brightened my (late) morning. 😀
On August 12, 2018 at 9:25 am