— David Eisbach
There’s shadeless dark and sleep has left the room.
Bare feet upon the cold oak floor recoil.
My robe is old, I’ll need another soon.
Ground beans are measured, water comes to boil.
The frige’s hum joins black coffee’s refrain.
Night surrenders its command of silence.
Silhouettes of trees unveil the terrain.
Crows slash the sky toward road-kill vigilance.
Ponderous dew mirrors the blue-grey sky.
Hypnotic is the rising golden sphere
That gives pleasure to the genial eye,
Mindful that my life’s worth is ever here.
When night bows to day; hope refreshed rises,
Each new day can offer grand surprises.