Morning is a woman
cloudy-eyed
humming softly
sheer gown of night
tossed slowly to the floor
standing bare with possibility
in front of her wardrobe of seasons
deciding her mood
today
a flowing sky blue dress
with pattern of easy clouds
the morning star her necklace
hair down to catch the wind
with perfume of evening rain.
I hate to see her leave.
Ken Owen Van Niddy Press October 2014
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