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.



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