the night is
                  still
                     dark
                       quiet
there is a distinct
                           chill
                             breathe
                            gently steams
from my mouth
                      seen only in the
light of a poets tablet.

the first bird is yet to wake
i am alone in my early mornings prowl.

too cold for the little grey cat
and too early for the human companions, they all remain
abide... cozied up and asleep

as i search the dark cold              
                                          nigh­t
for meaning.

in the distance the kookaburra cackle and chuckle
            dawn has come...