Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2271734-Morning-Wanders
Printer Friendly Page Tell A Friend
No ratings.
Rated: E · Poetry · Biographical · #2271734
That space, that moment
There's a place I know
where the path widens.
Two Adirondack chairs
await the weary
so you can sit
and perhaps
in that eerie, foggy
morning's light
or swap a trouble or two.

Or maybe
simply sit, at ease,
and watch
as the morning
ripens and gather
the colors that bloom
like so many flowers
in a meadow.

Perchance, you shiver,
wrap your shawl tighter
and think of coffee
and home. But there's
just that something,
that early scent,
that beckons onward.

It's tricky,
the timing
is never static,
each morning.
But for the patient,
the lucky,
the determined,
you can catch
that precise moment
between blinks,
between heartbeats,
dawn comes down
to day.

© Copyright 2022 Fyn- getting caught up (fyndorian at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2271734-Morning-Wanders