Morning

There is something about the morning,
Especially those delivered by spring.

The room is light and every trace of scary, heavy, tired thought is
gone – left behind in the night before.

The morning is clean, new and in her pocket she has for you a refill:
New possibilities for
the day ahead,
to replace those
you may have dropped,
missed or messed up
yesterday.

Up you get – she’s gracious with her gift,
But waits for no one.

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