Wake Up, Morning
Wake up, morning
-
Waking up, from the cold water;
walking over it; a spider,
is moving with lame laziness
towards its unaware breakfast.
Heat generated first clouds,
the newborns, yelping, careening
intoxicated by youth,
are scattered here and there.
The boy discovers a treasure,
his father’s cassette collection.
Old tape-recorder whines and squeaks.
Armstrong sings, “it’s a beautiful world…”
© 2009 - All Rights Reserved Kushal Poddar
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