POEM: Morning As A Flag of Change

The way morning, as it appears, unassuming.
The way it sees me with freshest eyes.
The courageous shades of blue.
The way cool air become grateful prayer.
The playful pair of mourning doves.
The flint-spark of fire on blackbirds’ wings.
The yawning cornflower face of chicory.
The industry of a garden spider and
The web that glistens in muted light.
The coffee that soothes the jangled morning.
The freedom to be so alone.
The silence that rubs cat-like against me.
The chance to change once again.