sometimes in the morning

sometimes in the morning i think i can go without
when the rain has slowed to a clogged faucet
my hair still knotted, my sweater damp
sometimes in the morning i think i won’t call
or contact
the ground
the gravel is loose and i’m clumsy
these leather soles are worn out
these porous souls
participate in the fluid exchange
between us
sometimes in the morning these cloudy thoughts
are free sunshine clear
and i’m tree trunk solid
and standing
in the dewy morning of an old day
new

sometimes in the morning

ekennedy

Joined June 2008

  • Artist
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poetry

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