Summer, rosy wakening

A gargantuan morning gapes at me,
wide-eyed and blue-skied.
It has showered in the last throes of dusk.

It has towelled down,
and its air
is tingling with wet freshness.

It drips crystalline light
through my bedroom window
on the rosy, wakening wall.

It pinkens my lids
and warmly
washes me to wakefulness.

And before that first thought
dawns and yawns and stretches
rehearsing the doings of the day,

I am given a view of the old Sun
flashing me its picture of youth.
Instamatic summer.

I carry a copy in my wallet of necessary feelings.


One thought on “Summer, rosy wakening

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s