Treading The Dawn

Early morning traffic noises
The city is shaking off sleep
Storefront gates wheeze and squeal
Protesting vehemently
As the dawn treaders sleepwalk
Muscle memory autopilot
Lights, camera, action.

Senior citizen pilgrims
Mingle with grubby shirts and stained pants
Tumbling out of comfort less doorways
Yesterday’s headlines still fresh
On newsprint faces
Crinkled and weary, a grime of monochrome dots
Just glad not to be crime beat or obituary.

The sun went back to bed
Pulling the woolly grey comforter
Over her tousled head
Borrowing deep, settling in behind the curtain
The promise of jeweled beads
And rainbow pavements
Lingering on her sleepy lips.

So here I am, holding forth
Mumbling a bit myself
Wishing that I was rising against soft and warm
Instead of waiting for cold comfort coffee
Like some expectant junkie
Outside the cafe
Watching for that angel of the morning
Coffee shop girl
To flip the sign to open.


One Response to “Treading The Dawn”

  1. one zero one Says:

    There is, in everyone, a part of us that will not quit. When that part of you rises up, pay attention to it. Its message is that your being is essential. To everything. Your breath to the heart of all you can see and imagine.
    See? Even at this humiliating distance; in this unswept corner, you affect everything. Everything desires what you offer. Way more than the kind 700 that hope to witness your next take on this – whatever it is.

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