I don’t like mornings.
………….They’re bright,
confusing, blinding.
There is so much noise and…
……………yellow.
I feel as if I have to chase my thoughts
across my mind because the birds won’t stop chirping.
…….(chirp)
…………………(chirp)
The trash man arrives then, ……….(chirp)
and he crashes and booms his way across the pavement outside my window.
…………….The sun shines on the trash man,
and he sweats– and e v e r y o n e sweats– and the smell permeates the air.
I have to fight the brightness,
..the chirping,
…..the b o o m i n g, and the crashes.
Everyone is in a rush. In a hurry.
Shhhhh.
The air is tight, my skin fits wrong,
but I persevere. (crash)
I outlive morning
every day.
The sun sets back and the brightness fades a bit. The world slows down and smiles. Every little sentence lines up properly to form a thought, and my mind slows down enough to listen. I don’t know where the noise goes, but I like to think it folds into conversation– comfortable chit-chat between lovers and friends.
The night comes gently and turns individuals into tribes. We cozy under the starry sky, companions in our own personal blanket fort– safe under a fabric made from dark corners of the cosmos. The next day heralds wonder and we sleep on that dream– knowing that tomorrow will bring the future, if only we survive the morning.
_____________________________
What about you? Are you a morning person?
