Morning is such a desperate lover.
How else could she make
you meet her if she didn't
steal your dreams at night?

these clouds like follies,
these moons like watery
ghosts, flooding, light
like a swollen stream, the
golden glow escapes, exhumed
like an egyptian mummy,
its laundry the white sheets
of the world, its apparition’s
the reticent clouds of the dark.

The early morning scent was of newly
damp earth, fresh rain on cedar trees,
Drink it in old mother Earth, dress
yourself in multi shades of new green.
All life here lives within the benevolence
of your grace, at your pleasure.
Let us be good and worthy tenants,
able stewards deserving of your
gracious bounty of life's earthly gifts.

The fog comes
on little cat feet.

It sits looking
over the harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.

My inguinal pain,
watching mating of moons,
at bank of tears.

Would you come to
ask the sun not to throw the
sparks in the eyes.

Will wait in twilight
for the blueness in moon.
Then give a call.