Monday, May 2, 2016
Misty Morning 5.52 AM (A Poem)
Misty morning 5.52 AM.
The sound of squirrels dancing on deck chairs,
corn flakes half digested.
Has anyone noticed that sidewalks are full of emotion?
I jog through the silence of ivy,
avoiding primaries and the destruction of iPads.
It's better this way:
The innocence of morning.
Stray cats counting paws under beat-up Mazdas,
librarians quoting Rumi into the stillness.
Nothing can kill me today,
not even the threat of hash tags,
dissolving before we know it.
The picture is from Santa Maria degli Angeli, Umbria in 2013. Poem from April 27, 2016. Copyright, Peter H. Fogtdal