work poem

[serene]

my morning (first veryrough draft)


morning glitters awake on water
on piers
on bluegray clouds of fog
that don't know
the time
or the distance between things
the spaces between breaths
no longer visible in warm springmorning air

dawn makes herself known, seen
in disorganized birdflocks
low-tide pierblocks
in sky colors too subtle to write them down

until Oh!
it's day.
and dawn is forgotten.