Day-tide

I settle down,
shake off the day.
Sometimes, I still pray.
It’s a sort of habit I never kicked.
The words built for God,
walk from my tongue,
like water from a tap.

Nevermind, that.

I roll over, and
before I sleep,
I begin to dream.
Explorations of a place that’s close,
But never seems –
quite available.

It’s like I’m leaving myself on read.

The dawn twitches open.
I know,
I’m supposed to talk about,
the glory of a sunrise,
but I’m a night-owl,
And twitching best describes,
my dawn as I yawn in,

The beginning, I guess.

Or something to that effect,
my physiology groans,
my biology rebels,
“we wake when the stars light”
they say,
Yes, I reply. I KNOW.
I talk a lot to myself in the morning.

It’s motivating, maybe, to shout sometimes,
too.

I wander down soft carpet stairs,
and watch the sea from a front-window.
I hear the gulls cry,
and think it an appropriate sound for
morning-time.
I wonder vaguely about the tides,
Sipping a hot, sweet coffee.

I wonder if something new will arrive,
right on time,
with the day-tide…




Published by LughLana

Hey there. My name is Ash. Whenever I feel lost or confused, I write. This blog is a project in releasing the poetry I would have kept locked up inside, otherwise. It's pronounced 'LOU-lah-NA.' Enjoy your visit!

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