There is something
about the early morning light
the way is bounces and throws
patterns lacy images
shadowy dancing lovers
reminders of times and moments
held so dear my chest aches
held without reason or clarity
purity of the senses
and every song that ever mattered
in my adolescence
playing on an auto rewind
flip switch non-gender sensitive spin-off
and some where out in the distant fog
I can hear a horn blow
and Tom Waits grumbles
something profound; never missing the mark
Yes I wish I had written a line or two
in honor of my own invitation to the blues
or at the very least
a clearer imaginary image
of me and you

Three something in the morning a seagull flies by
hit and run grabbing what it can,
comfort food ahead of the sunrise rush ~

©2018 TrilbyYates