Early

The dark will soon struggle
To meet the rising light. It's
Still and eerie, this early late
Night. Early to bed early to
Rise, I am not wealthy. Nor
Wise. I am awake in a pre-
Dawning, in a pre-morning
Yet I have slept and dreamt
Now I await the sun's rise
Like any office worker, will
Have my coffee. I am up
Before the first rooster's
Crow though no rooster
Perches on my city steps
Daylight will emerge from
Night's darkest hours. It
Will lighten. The sky will
Be a revelation after the
Difficulties of a starless
Night. Maybe there were
Stars, like the crowing
Rooster unheard in the
Thrum of a city street,
Stars are darkened by
City street lights, lights
That do not illuminate
The deep dark of night
The sun will clarify its
Gloomy intensity, it will
Brighten into a singing
Light.  A new day sits
Beyond, opens like a
Flower in springtime,
Steals hope from doom

Creaky

It wasn't like this, you say.
Everything hurts. Why do
You think that is? You ask
But I haven't the heart to
Place the blame squarely
Where it belongs, age, It's
A starting point, I am sure.
My cousin Daniela, I miss
Her, like I miss my mother,
She, Daniela, would say it's
The aches in the morning
That prove we're still alive.
I answer your question and
I say no it never was like this
When we were young. I was
Never stiff or slow. Nothing
Hurt to the bone. That's true.

Perfection

These clouds are like smoke
They billow across the sky,
Puffing their way north by
Northwest, making way for
A patch of blue as pale as
Periwinkle, a color perfect
For the walls in a newborn's
Nursery. A first home color
Gentle on the eye, but sure
Of itself and unmuddled. Its
Baby blue as pure and light
As air on a balmy clear day

Dawning

Light begins seeping in
Lightly, gently, so those
Obscured objects begin
To take shape and come
Out of their darkness, out
Of hiding in the dim room
Into the morning light as
It seeps slowly past the
Shade, turns shadow into
Substance, awakes all of
Us lying here with hunger
For a new day, eagerness
Of hope and of renewal

Fall

Do you, like I, have a 
Favorite time of year
I am fond Ado Annie
Style whichever time
It is. When I'm not near
The season I love I love
The season I'm near. So
Sorry R&H for my huge
Transgression. All times
Are good seasons to
Celebrate. What? well, 
The seasons, of course
But I love best of all the
Season known as autumn
I love it best, I do. Fall

Love is

Love is tender as fresh 
Shoots of grass in the
Spring; sweet as new
Milk still warm; soft as
Velvet tight against the
Skin; easy as a breeze
Ruffling your hair on a
Cloudless day. Love is
A reason for being; a
Cause to be; a force as
Strong as the waves in
A surfer's dreams; calm
As a lake at sunset. It
Moves you. It haunts
You. It holds you. Love
Is as steady as a tailor's
Hand. Warm as an early
Summer's day. Love is
As hot, cold, surprising
As the seasons. Love is.

Across a night sky

Across two nights across the 
Night sky lit from within lit by
A waning sun a rising moon
My skyline offers me drama
With a touch of dramamine.
That last bit is just an LOL or
A "ha" not an aha. There is a
Peace in its symmetry and in
Just how nature blends then
Highlights what man clearly
Is building across two nights
Across the night sky lit by a
Setting sun, or, by electricity,
From within or by the moon

Age old questions

The sun creates both sunlight 
And shadow each an inverse
Of the other. It's shadows that
Seem the stronger one, written
On the granite face of the walk.
Elusive markings dependent on
Time of day position of the sun
Where they fall they also lead as
If they were breadcrumbs in a
Tale of Hansel or Gretel in their
Escape from a witch who only
Wants to fatten them, her cook
Pot awaiting the moment; they
Awaiting the run-for-it that sets
Them free. Shadows in a forest,
Following the crumbs that birds
Have messed on the way home.
Out of the shadows into the light.