Morning
Just another day in this gentle prison.
The western sky teased blue
But now the grey curtains are drawn
And the feeding birds –
who know more than we do –
gather with urgency.
I shower away the night’s strange symphony
And concoct a strong brew,
One that can eradicate my doubts
Long enough to go about the work before me.
In this bright, tinny morning
I see the true colors of the lovers, the artists
the madmen and the evil.
If nothing else, our unseen enemy
Will reveal us all
For what we are,
Or are not.
MORE: See all of our Write On, Colorado entries here.
Suzanne Cheavens is associate editor of the Telluride Daily Planet.