FALSE START


The morning rises. Fingers of sunlight
Caress the sleep from my eyes; dew
Trickles on the windowpane, and beyond
A new day stretches awake. Stirring slowly,
As though each movement would shatter
The world, I slowly pull my feet from beneath
The woolen blanket and gently test the cold
Floorboards of possibility. I trip.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s