Sleep dust is wiped away, 

Just like forgotten memories, 

Whose names will fade with time. 

Arms are stretched above the head, 

Reaching for new dreams, 

That can now be lightly traced by fingertips. 

Water is drunk, 

As if they were dying of thirst. 

It wipes away all those kisses from the night before. 

The duvet is flung back,

Despite the cold, 

These legs are swung so quickly over the side. 

There is nobody holding them back. 

Curtains are pulled back, 

In a gust of enthusiasm, 

Letting the gold sweep onto the bedroom floor. 

The window is pushed open, 

A shiver is sent down the spine, 

But the birds are singing. 

A moment. 

Here, to watch, to listen,

To look up. 

And then.

It starts. 

Categories: Poetry