The Grapevine Art & Soul Salon

Some mornings

the sky opens like
an iron door

and her creak rips
all my sleep apart

birds talking
like the gong man

butterflies floating
like moon dancers

morning stars
still visible

crescent moon holding
the silver sky.

Some mornings you need
to do nothing at all

men sharing pleasantries
with fellow men

the sound of their laughter
happy as the morning sun

dragonflies
perching and flying

my eyes
watching and roaming

rays of sunshine tinting
flowers by my window.

Then I think

it's autumn, fall.

Some mornings you need
to do nothing at all

rainbow spreading
at my doorstep

pebbles dancing
on distant shore

squirrels darting
by my tree stand

tired leaves falling
after a windy dance.

Some mornings you need
not hurry off your feet at all.