Morning
In the morning I awaken
From a dream
That is night,
So dark and unseen.
I am tapped by the fingers of nature
And their unnatural glove.
As bird, car and voice
Salute the Sun.
I turn back the covers,
I take my first breaths.
I help myself to Nature’s nipple,
The “original and best.”
As I contemplate the day,
I wash away the residue of sleep;
For now is what really matters to me...
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