TODAY’S MASK
It stands again. The opening
of day. Clothes fashioned in
dreams, purchased in the dawn
of shadowed choices. We awake
in aspirations. Forged in tosses
and turns. We fill our hair from
a shower to wash the sleep out.
We transfer to the towel unused
and excess water. The song of
coffee perks a beat as the table is
set for thought. Each door creates
a flow from here to that other place
where we fit in best. The corner
we like. A chair of our own. The
face we wear.
Roger Singer 