I treasure the early mornings I spend alone,
Family abed, I listen quietly
To the sound of their slumber:
One stirs, another coughs.
Outside, city birds sing
Inside concrete valleys, atop aluminum trees.
My dawn thoughts wander aimlessly,
No rush or commotion, commitments or appointments.
Comfortable, snail's paced images and ideas
Stroll through my rested attic.
I sip my coffee and think how lucky I am
To have a family that sleeps late
And a mind that rises early.--MTA