This morning

This morning your auburn hair
is tied in a cocky string
behind your neck
and in the dusk
before you drive off to work,
your Madonna eyes
are big and bright
and I can feel the chill
on your small nose.

When the car’s
red tail lights
disappear in the distance,
there’s still a star
shining in the morning light
and already I can’t wait
to see you in the afternoon.

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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