It is cool in the morning, and sunny
People walking by the lakeside, dogs alongside them
The air is still
The face of the water is smooth and glassy
Millfoil breaking the surface near the fishing dock, by the shore
Listen to the walleye jumping
The sound of running shoes thumping
It is slow on the street
It is still dark outside
It is quiet on Bryant
The bus just rolled by, high pitched engine
Breaking up the silence
Kitty stirring beneath her blanket on couch
Under the orange and white stripped tent
I make for her in the morning
She thinks she is a cave lion
Spring came and it is warm in the house
The hum of the fan mutes the sound of the TV
Of traffic, of Kitty purring, of my lady sleeping
Breathing, in the early morning, minutes from rising
The dark is just beginning to break outside the window
The faintest blue line is stretching across the horizon
Tree bud are popping, the Earth is respiring
Beneath a soft blanket of dew
At 4:00 am the street outside my window
Is bright with electric light, Bryant Avenue
The refrigerator is noisy, click, rattle, hum
The floors have a different squeak to them
Deeper along the joists, a bus rolls by #4
Kitty is on her blanket, taking in her view
The wind in the maple blowing, leaves
Gathered by the stairs, there are no rabbits
On Bryant, but there are chip monks
With their striped fur, they are sleeping
She is waiting for them to wake
It is 5:00 am and the city is stirring.
I have been awake for a few hours writing.
My cat is sleeping in the window,
Half lidded and watching.
There are rabbits on the lawn in the frosted morning.
The news is of the Attorney General lying,
Lying to the Senate under oath.
My lady is on the couch drinking coffee.
We are talking about the news, and wondering,
Is there a place for justice at the table in March.
The air is cool in the morning; now.
I hear the thrum and hum of crickets outside my kitchen window.
Crickets strumming in the dark; in the dewy grass there are rabbits.
The Angel’s Trumpet is blooming in the boulevard.