22 July 2010


Matutinal 7/22

It goes pink first – soundless blush on the blue
then the little pips come up

They chat to each other – quiet and to themselves
until the first bus rises and moves

After the televisions wake – and tune up the news
as the stoves of the city bacon

It rises – converges until it is a booming
a swelling ocean of day-rise

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