Morning song

It feels as if the screaming
of a cricket goes right through the depths of me,
pass sleep into my brain.

Outside there’s a choir of frogs croaking
to really wake me up
and I wonder why everything
and now even the birds
this morning is singing so happily
and somewhere in the distance
a cock crows a few times.

The sun’s red fingers
already feels through the twilight
and I see the big old dark brown dog
stretching herself out
as if she is worshiping the sun
and then sits prepared on attention
while she’s watches the street.

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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