A distant nightbird mocks the sun

I wake as I have always done

To freshly scented sycamore

And cold bare feet on hardwood floor



My steaming coffee warms my face

I'm disappointed in the taste

But there's a peace the early brings

The morning world of growing things



I feel the moment hurry on

It was today, it's died away

And now it is forever gone



And I will drink my coffee slow

And I will watch my shadow grow

And disappear in firelight

And sleep alone again tonight