Status Report 53
Crickets and frogs sing their song
outside darkened window,
weave traffic tire hiss
with swish of this
and modal trains far in the night
moaning for softer sidings
down track and back.
There’s magic in rising before the sun,
a taste of space before time tang
to sit and sip and wait for light,
mind reminting maybe.
– Smith, 8.9.2015
