Good morning.
Lean into the good,
even if a hangover fug
has you in its grasp,
breathe deep.

We still have grey days
to argue with, some tears,
til greenery ensues
when lost, hidden and new truths will return.

So make the morning good,
with toast and jam
or salt, fat and shenanigans.

And for your soul,
despite the impotent bitterness
of prevailing winds,
prop open the door a little.