I prefer the blue
as morning opens the sky
as shadows declare outlines
Not white washed
by the midday heat
calling children
to dance hopscotch across
the burning cement
their bare feet calloused
with summer
Birds wake, sing, shout
I am alive, I am ready,
all mine
and I
warble lines in the shower
croon with the teapot
turn on all the lights
just because I can
because I pay the bill
The lawn stretches
reaches to meet the sun,
I want to wear
the blade rippling dew
like diamond bangles
on my toes
dig into the very roots
I strap into my office chair
to keep from sliding to the floor
drunk on the morning
Writing 