Morning (First Draft)
It's morning,
It's early morning
It's very early morning.
The soft spot is tracking across dragon humps
Kissing dark places,
Making virgin land flush warm pink.
Shadows wake and stretch,
Flowers unbend and stand tall,
Smiling at the sky,
The chorus begins,
Mice scutter for cover,
Lizzards whip over cold boulders
Exposed by the crazy day.
I am stiff, not yet kissed,
Cold,
Eyes peeping,
Slothful, underpowered, head not raised.
I'm not sad, it's just the way it is.
"How ye feeling?" I'm asked by Mr Wideawake.
"Like shit!"