Blank Paper, Sharp Pencil
I would greet the sun
but he’s not up yet
I am the sun’s rooster
pedals pumping
on the empty morning trail
spokes twirling
miles flying
energy high
But some days my dreams
are better than Reality™
and I curl up
tight
in my sheets
hanging onto foggy giddy nonsense for
just a few more minutes
And those days,
the sun, Mr. Sun
greets me
prods me
until I get up
When I do, I’m glad I got up
The day is young yet
and still full of its promise
blank paper ready, pencil laid out
ready to go