In Their Birthday Suits

Cuckoo a silly bird,
Heard at early dawning.
Shakens those awake,
With a yawning that they make.
And...
Sunrise begins to lift,
Up on the horizon.
People rub their eyes,
To begin their routined lives.

In their birthday suits,
Some wish they could wear all day.
Naked like a rooster when the crowing gets done.
To do all their chores without impressing someone.
Trying not to duplicate what was worn yesterday.

In their birthday suits,
Some wish they could wear all day.
Lazy they are feeling,
With the expense to keep clothes clean.
Knowing where they work it seems...
The only purpose to show up is just to be seen.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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