dawn is the best time for musings
the light is semi-bright and it casts everything into slanted shadows
it sets an artistic kind of tone,
a pleasantly cold atmosphere
my letters spin out clearer
my sentences flow out oh, so much better
it’s morning but not quite
every thing is still still
not as a grave, more so a comforting blue-white blanket over a pair of legs
cars don’t dare rush by, no dogs risk a bark
just the synchronized breathing of a thousand resting minds
and cool blast of conditioned air as it circulates around the room
it’s too late for the monsters to come out,
and i can traipse fearlessly through a castle of sheets and words that i cannot say when the sun shines brighter
the world is still young