Good Morning, Old Friend.

I awake to

Spring showers

Each drop

A tick tick,

Percussion parade.

The alarm rings 8

And like a curtain cue

The sky lifts her skirt,

And light

Bathes my bedsheets.

I am a warm wayfarer

Surfing sanguine

But barely breathing

Drowning

In anxiety

Before my feet

Have hit

The cold floor.