Friday, November 6, 2015

8:30 AM, November

The pale grayness reaches out
Trembling by the light of day
My tired eyes absorb
So weak they cannot handle it
Seeping across the windowsill
And into my cup of coffee
Calm and easily forgotten
Are the joys of the first moments
Halting earth's spinning for a mere breath
Before the sun burns away
It's safety blanket
Piercing my bedroom
In harsh, real light
Too warm, too strong a reminder
We are still moving, we must.

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