The garden belongs to itself at 5 a.m.
I am not expected.
There is a cool independent air.
The business of the day has commenced
needless of my presence.
The virginal sky receives the red-eye.
New light investigates
dark corners.
Poppies
undress.
Bees
move in.
Suddenly tired,
I go back to bed.
Nana and those emerging poppies complement each other.
ReplyDeleteA glimpse of the sacred at that hour ...
ReplyDeleteTypo errors; disturbed sleep patterns; strawberry bellinis...
ReplyDeleteDo I detect a fellow traveller on the primrose path - of dalliance?!
How lovely, Lucille, text, photos and music. Thank you.
ReplyDelete