how quiet mornings
are when alone. no other voice,
no other
footsteps
across the floor.
no one being ignored,
or asked
or told how are you,
good morning.
no eyes to look into
to find
an answer, to guess which
way the day
may go.
how sweet
the silky sun is out
behind
the clouds.
the trees reaching for it
like children
about to be born.
it's a quiet start,
the energy of one, being
me,
more than enough.
more than enough.
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