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Early Birds
Dawn’s warning
Can never come too early
For early birds like me
But for that poor worm
The dawn is a germ
That grows insidiously, rancidly.
Every morning
Sister’s yearning
For the one she loves
He’s not here
So sorry dear
His echo rapes the coves
Where he once was
Floating with innocent doves
And gracefully, gracefully
Up, and out of this world
Into oblivion where dreams prevail
To no avail and sailors lose their coats
In the morning
In the morning, a floating mist
Creeps up and over the world
A second cup of coffee will do
For the stress of that lost shoe
A bread loaf covered with mold
The one the hooligans stole
The one the delinquents vanquished
The one those jerks had taken
There are no people here to worry about
This is not the city
Copyright ©
Brooke Wolfe
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