So seldom seen by me,
I, who sleep so greedily.
What have I to say
Of the glory of each new day?
It's as though the Divine intends
Every morning to make amends
For the ugliness of the day before
Through the beauty of sunrise once more.
Perhaps I'd be happier,
With kinder things to say,
If I woke a little earlier
Each day.
(2013)
