Listening To The Morning

The sun on my bookcase.

Books, their plain binding suffused with light.

Cars pass.

The song of the bird, here then gone.

The traffic continues on

Swishing as the great tide

That ebbs and flows.

The bird sings again

Competing with the vehicles noise (and winning)!

A crow khaws once.

A woodpecker joins in.

9:40, sitting at my computer, listening to the morning.

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