Morning pressed in with an undercurrent

of calmness, like the repose of a folded

napkin next to an empty plate.

Windows encourage light. The room undergoes

change. Colors appear, revealing life

beyond evening grays and the dark of night.

Dreams of sadness become absorbed into

the arms of daylight. The crossroads of

sleep to standing is an orchestra of alive.

Time succeeds. The engine within us

claims the day. One step and then the next.

There are many untold stories.


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