Wednesday, February 11

Morning Dusk

The nights are longer now. That blaze of glory
I used to see stealing up the grass
And roses is hiding east of the sierra.
Maybe you can catch it when I leave.

Our little friends are later every day.
Like you, they'd rather catch an extra wink
Of sleep before they brave the cat's meow.
It's almost time to flutter out of bed.

The engine's gentle rumbling is my song ---
A giant, snoring beyond the backyard lawn.


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