7:00 AM

A quick sensory sketch.

they were perfect mornings,

when I’d lie in bed with my arms

running parallel to my headboard,

and listen to the gutters chew weather

in their sloshing way---

the water, I imagined,

not its usual blue

but instead teal-and-gray,

like hospital gowns

or the muted lighted that dripped down

on those days,

far heavier than the rain.

The End

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