Woke up this morning
to a thump on the window:
false sky. A dead bird.
*
Woke up this morning
with a fierce new itching
on the soles of my feet.
*
Woke up this morning
from someone else’s nightmare —
I was the monster.
*
Woke up this morning
to the shapeless summer song
of a winter wren.
*
Woke up this morning
& stared into the clock’s blank face:
the power’s out.
*
Woke up this morning
several hours too early:
the moonlight tricked me.
*
Woke up this morning
to the murmured sweet nothings
of an empty stomach.
*
Woke up this morning
with yesterday’s shoulder ache
settled in my spine.
*
Woke up this morning
to patches of frost in the yard.
I got your letter.
*
Woke up this morning
with the reds & the yellows.
Another autumn.
***
Thanks to Leslee for the idea. (And by coincidence, it seems she did wake up with the blues this morning.)
Poor bird!
Excellent! The old bluesmen were right – the blues may get you down, but blues music makes fine medicine.
Fine medicine indeed, Dave!
Sing it.
work up this morning
so happy to find myself
on Dave’s smorgasblog.
thanks for adding my words to your “smorgasblog.”
i don’t think the bird is as thrilled with fame as i am.
that thump is familiar to all of us and so sad. poor, silly birdie.
Thanks for the comments, y’all. Carolee, I’m not sure being smorgasblogged quite qualifies as fame, but I’m glad it made your morning. I enjoy pointing readers to bloggers who are taking risks.
Sharing blues is good.