The soft proddings of a morning lilt

Wednesday, November 20, 2024

7:08 AM

The morning comes in cascades of light and sound

 

The monotone of darkness slowly busted away into a brilliant world

 

 

And birds chirp in the air

 

 

Sounds of cars passing become prominent

And I sit by the coffee pot and write.

 

 

The aroma from sipping coffee

 

 

And the textures of writings by such as Karen Hesse and Edith Wharton and 정혜선

Grasps my mind and fills it with lyric and prose and ruts a trace

 

 

Fallen leaves are stuck in the mud of the rut

And sometimes a dropped bracelet

A child bracelet that someone had of yore

Smudged in the mud as well

And the grass are well trodden under many cars and footsteps

And the earth is prominent and muddy

And the grove the rut is rather deep there

 

The rut left by the many markings and languages and notions and senses of a lot of authors and people

 

All in my mind

 

 

They are afresh on my mind this morning

A morning lilt

Of a literary and of a nature kind