Brookwood morning


veiled in dew, blades bend in the meadow
glistening applause as the sun comes over the hill
through windswept branches rays unburden the grass
the mercury begins to boil away the morning’s breath
soon the others will wake up and it will continue
for now, a cup of coffee and an avian symphony at dawn
the Esopus gurgles welcoming invitations to play
footsteps, lured by the prospect of a cup of fresh brewed
quiet morning respite now shared in silent nods
in a few moments, the rest will wake and the party will continue
until then I won’t break the armistice of Willow’s peace
coffee, Brookwood’s meadow and nature’s orchestra


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