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Rated: E · Poetry · Family · #1628755
I muse on the perfection of morning.
In the silent morning
with no television,
the only light comes from
ice fog-bound
sodium arcs
penetrating the crack
between thick curtains.

I sit with coffee and dreams
remembering the past
and contemplating
the future
that begins
with one more sip
and solumn vows.

Here in the quiet
of a sleeping house
where even puppies
still lie abed,
I muse on the perfection
of morning,
life, and love.

like fleeting moments,
come and go
upon soft breaths
as I think of my love
and how a gentle word
makes a beautiful day.

"Baby, wake up."
"Do you need a ride
to work?"
"I want to tell you something."
"I love you."
"Have a great day."

Warm hugs in a quiet house.

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