Saturday, August 24, 2013

That wonderful time before your mind completely lets go of the night.



No, just the rising sun
blasting through the frosted
glass on the east wall.

A laser.

Eyes closed,
I can feel it.

No fast moves.

Aroma of dark elixir.

Quiet electric hum
inside insulated walls.

A favorite time

that does not last.

Dennis Price


  1. I've been enjoying reading your poetry. This one, I can really identify with as I am not the first one up of a morning and I love the way you describe morning coffee.

  2. Hi Vee. Glad you enjoyed that little ditty. I am having a cup of hot chocolate right now because I heard it was good for the memory.


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