Morning

The world is wrapped
in a thin blanket,
impatient for morning

Like the east,
my eyes are heavy
with possibility –
possibilities that are exciting
and ones likely to come true
and others, always empty,

My imagination tries
to pad the spaces
to warm my head
As the sun now warms
the Midwest through
a layer of fraying flannel

Little may still be exciting
when I open my eyes.
The decision to delay
is all it takes to
scatter leftover dreams;
they dissolve like burning clouds

But my mind is not
as sharp as the sun…
all morning I will chase
The fading fog of chances
unrewarded which I did
or did not take.

In clearest day
I’ll fight to fill
these phantom hopes.
Something into nothing,
patience with no time.
To save myself trouble

Not much left is exciting
I’ve looked and have not seen
I’ll squint a while longer,
Since it’s harder to
get out of bed –
but life won’t meet me here

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