Morning / Perfect View
The sky is wearing the prettiest pale blue
The trees are yawning out of shadow
Wakened by silken light and those hooligan morning angels:
Shrieking, giggling, gibberish birds.
The grass is drenched in tears of the Moon,
She left them as a sensible morning tonic for the sun.
One star lingers to watch you open your eyes,
Begin again.
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