The still of Morning

The Still of Morning

In the still of the morning
raindrops dance upon the roof.
Soft snores rise from the bedrooms,
floorboards creaking softly

as I make my rounds.
It is a beautiful time of the day
when the cares of the world
have not stirred, and all is content.
A time when thoughts churn
disturbed only by the rumblings
of a noisy vehicle.