Early dew-damp I stumbled up
into the before sunrise garden to
collect my mind misty remnants of
the eve fading like bruised
shadows into pale golden hues as
in the grass gleaming bottles--I trip
glasses in the nasturtium abloom and
look, jacquard napkins, flowering
wet roses on the fence, too bright even
at this hour, still bursts my head blinded
with feathered rays, shining wings and
clouds so pink the morning glories
winding up the trellis-- I cut my hand
wide open how loud they sing.

08/05/2012

Author's Note: Postcard project

Posted on 08/05/2012
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