Morning Has Broken

Morning has broken,
Plants, people, and mechanisms are touched by light.

Strange concepts we call life.

Buses roll out onto Dalmatian-potholed streets
as sun hits gazing eyes.

Water beads bejewel, adorning the
perfectly cut blades of
verdant grass.

Trash men collect garbage
swishing and slopping repugnant trash.

Commuters traverse out and through; up and down,
all around
big-small town.

This is no winter,
summer months of reprieve;
warm,
hot to sweat,
we lay at the beach.

Though always in motion;

The never still late nights,
even if we embody the hard to wake early mornings.

City Morgen
Intensely inviting,
Enticing to the outsider
a spider’s web for those who call it home.

You are here today
Taking it in-
on some corner of some neighborhood
in some way.

Lucky you,
Morning has broken.

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