Morning People

If you’re a morning person, Then you wake before the dawn And thus, it’s dark outside When blinds are raised or drapes undrawn. The city’s very magical When most of it’s asleep. It’s relatively quiet And the stillness settles deep. The subway’s fairly empty And most stores are shuttered tight, Just waiting for their owners To unlock and flip the light. Museums are less crowded, As are parks and paths to stroll, The noises of the afternoon Still held in some control. Late risers miss the magic That the mornings always bring, But to them, it is the night time When their joy is taking wing.