“Good Morning”
Good morning
poured into my room
In streams
that, warming, wakened me
To watch the
golden, rising tide
Flow inward
from the dawning day.
The maiden
light is rarely such
A flood of nearly
touchable
Assurance,
eager to arrive
And meet
you; waiting like the sound
And
fragrance of festivity
On your own
doorstep, greeting you
Before you
open and go in.
March, 1982
I love this poem! Thanks for sharing it.
ReplyDeleteThanks Kay!
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