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       Not Yet Blue*

Ah . . .   What a morning.
I peeped out the window
just as the sun was rising
and there were just enough clouds
to catch the shades of orange
and a little red.
Exactly the type of morning
that the makes the photographer
reach for his camera
and the poet reach for his pen.

I thought of coffee
and maybe a piece of toast
to nibble
while I sat on the steps
to enjoy the glory of morning.
Start the day.
Fresh start.
Start over?
Oh, damnit.
There it comes again,
thoughts of you,
thoughts of then.

And it was such a beautiful morning
when I was not yet blue.

Michael Mathews
January 14, 2016
10:01 AM
In the RV
Still wondering where home might be