Mr. Morning

Dawn's personage sheds its nightcap
in sleepy slow motion,
like a child too tired to rise out of his bed
when cold air sneaks in
under the covers.
But,
the sun's warm woolen slippers
nudge the way toward
a brand new day,
and after shaving clean with winter cream,
he rouses fully to
select the clothes he'll wear…
that blue plaid shirt that fades to grey
with yesterday's
yellow workpants
showing off his flamboyance.
Picking up his landscape lunchbox,
he heads out the door
singing a song that is as serene
as the ocean is vast.

poem by Sara Fielder
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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