Calling the morning.
Gazing at the dawn like she's
Come once too often.
The girl in meadowlark dressing
Warns me to be silence (slightly)
And hands me a bouquet
Of morning dew sensation
Wet in my bossom
of Today.
She takes away with her
A breath (breadth, breast) of her own hair
And locks it
in a jar (of broken promises).
And says to me "Wait!"
(Drama, don't be tense)
"for me as I waited for you."
written and © by David Spelling 4-28-96
layout layout © 1996 copy; 2008 Dunn by Paul