By sarah iristakeroot@aol.com
Date: 8 June 2000
wren
its a simple morning
with resurected sunshine
filtered coffee
and a cat trying to jump on my lap
im listening to the birds
trying to distinguish
the wren
with his shrill mating call
i never like the morning
until i look outside
and see how freshly made it seems
my body fights my mind to look
away from green halo of lights
slipping through the trees
i remember the smell of dew in mornings
yet it surprises me everytime i
smell it, and the morning wanes
and lipstick is left on the coffee mugs
and the dew disapears and the afternoon
becomes hot and humid opression that
makes me want to just strip naked
yet the coffee grows cold!
i never found the wren i was searching for
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