sometimes I awaken
wrists and ankles crossed
as if in bondage to sleep
I untangle myself from dreams
to face a new day
in my shower I sing songs
with words known only to myself
morning has rituals
a choreography of steps
morning has silence
blessed silence gladly found
a sense of seclusion
some would say
I am not a morning person
this is true, I do not spring
from my bed hungry
for news of the world
that small portion
of time
is mine
to savor
like hot buttered toast
bite-by-bite
I am spiritually fed
Published originally in:
Talk
A collection of 23 poems:
Self-published for Western Washington University Staff Art Show, June 1998.
A copy of this chapbook is in Western Washington University Special Collections
in Wilson Library.