The Friend in Morning

 
When I come outside I see the morning,
the birds are singing, sorrily
— there is a train rolling
through the East bottoms,

Since four o'clock,
the rooster across the alley,
he's been up and crowing,

The wind chimes I can hear,
Marmaton around the corner
playing his banjo from the balcony,

He stands for, Friend, come here.
I was named after a river,
and the grey clouds rolling in, you can see,
is where the promised rain is kept.

I've lived a long and far journey,
Friend, listen to me,
I am the watershed of my mother...
.
.
.
I come outside to the ashen clouds,
dawn has broken,
the sounds are soft and rolling,
and I can feel the beautiful rain.