Sunday, April 12, 2015

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.

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