Early Rising

Early Rising

4:30
and the birds are tuning up.
Gray light, cooling, brightening to blue
Summer morning pulls me from sleep,
reluctant sleeper
relentless morning

It isn't that I have things to do
Not yet.
Not even the cat calling for breakfast.

Nor even
things to think through.
No pending loves,
pressing issues
or troubles.

Only those edgy,
churning,
almost grumpy
sleep devouring
would haves,
might have beens
and
if onlys.

Better to listen to chickadees,
look at the brightening clouds and sky,
and write a poem.