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morning, again

the day
as one can be prepared
the east and the sun
as it comes.
clouds within the air
a settling as the dew parers
a slice,
the morning to the day's fare.
accepting as it brings,
manage that smile,
walk brisk on that morning mile.
shoes tied neatly in a bow.
the shops and the houses all in rows.
the pickets of the fences
in their whiteness reflecting shade
the woodworking neat and made.
steps one by one
shuffling to the song bird's tune.
the whistle of the wind
on this day limbs begin their bend
summer leaves fall from of which autumn sends.
the foot loose and fancy free
one looks to the tree
summer's at its end
a time to ease,
maybe a coolness will come with this morning's breeze.
til the morning, i whisper little prayers
rituals and patterns...
day to day.
life is preserved in what is a special way.
Written by mysticstones
Published
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