050809

The sun sneaks up 

over the mountain

I wake 

to think only of you

with heavy eyes

laden with 

fleeting dreams

I bring them half-open

fill them with pink-and-green petals

with sunlit slats permitting 

just enough

from the places I've been

in the beat of my

rapid eyes and

sweet dream sweat

wet on neck

down the shoulders

unusual.

I am here with

the waking morning

almost silent but

here:

a quiet tick-tick

and there:

the city's first living:

a barking

a birding

a rooster saluting

broken only

by the pass of a distant

solitary engine

and then

another.

The countryside

marked by

the early hour

by simple living

by shepherds leading

low bells to echo

mountain to mountain

valley to valley

sky to the sea

and back

to the necks 

of the sheep.