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A breath, morning
A heavy lidded dawning
A yawn, a moan
A stifle, a groan
The sun is incongruent
Little to see, scarce to move
Lots to be, plenty to do
A sundial, clocking the strokes
A moondial, polyamorous and broken
The first rays break through
Eyes to the floor,
Cover to the wall.
An amniotic weep out of the womb
Whence was tears, they are silent
Whence was wonder, it is absent
For it is never seen that,
with your eyes aimed low
Arms hanging, head bowed
Why does one life life with eyes half closed