There was no urgency in today's poetry.
Just a gentle urging.
The words turning in soft spirals
through his morning mind,
as it woke with the birds.
The mournful call of a solitary dove
gradually giving way to the rich blending
of clicks and whistles,
as the seasonal travelers woke with the sun.
And he woke with them, at a sultry pace.
Savoring the elongated emergence,
of the dream of day.
He stretched and stroked as his body unwound,
exploring each sensation of the waking walk.
The gentle power as muscles and joints found
their way into the new day.
There were thoughts of her.
There were always thoughts of her,
dancing to the birdsong,
hiding in the richness of the morning light.....
Her presence was soft this morning
as he recalled their long good night kisses,
and thought of their day,
ahead.....together.