Morning

october morning-
even the sun seems to feel
like staying in bed
–
flannel sheets-
somewhere in the house
an open window

the living desert-
waves carried across the sand
by wind on the dunes
–
tumbleweeds-
a mindless expanse
of lifeless sand

blackbird’s lilting song-
sunlight caresses your face
just before you wake
–
in the clouds-
the soft glow of
an autumn dawn

your silver hammer
softly tapping cracks into
my porcelain heart
–
soft breathing-
your hair gold
in the sunlight

the afternoon sky-
dark shadows of contrails paint
the white clouds bellow
–
early morning-
my head and office
above the clouds

wings skim the lake as
a great blue heron takes flight
in the predawn mist
–
the rising sun-
hidden amid
the cattails

warm morning sunlight
shines upon on a stranger’s face
in my hotel bed
–
full moon-
muddy tracks
lead to my bed

hundreds of candles-
an unlit testament to
this empty vigil
–
tumbled stone-
autumn’s first light
warms the piazza

the ragtop put down
bare feet up on the dashboard
red hair in the wind
–
pacific coast highway-
california dreamin’
on the radio

her worn threadbare coat-
piles of bread crumbs spread between
the bird lady’s feet
–
a park bench-
sparrows land
on my shoulder