This sunrise is very beautiful
With a hue of pink and a rareness which
Befits the weariness of red eyes

As slowly over the Catskills she
Rises and resides
Until she can be seen within the sky

Pure as almond and ivory  
Backed by the dawn and the day alike

Who am I to stand here in her way?
Who am I to say that she shouldn’t try?

I can only trust and occasionally wish
That she would honor me with a simple kiss
Of morning dew, and a smile wide

For that, in this, my morning eyes  
Would bring great joy to me in my life