As I try to stay awake through the last hour

I glance at the window behind

Rip open the curtains

Who knew sunrise was so soon?

Glancing behind

The whole sky changes hue

With each look.

Pale pink to pale gray

To stormy blue

Until bright blue appears

With streaks of brilliant white.

Who else looks upon this?

Is anyone enjoying it?

Or do they sleep the Sunday mornings away?

Are those awake to see it too weary to appreciate it

Off to the daily grind?

I wonder,

How much beauty do I miss

When I do not stir myself to be perceptive of it?

One thought on “6am

  1. Oh, I understand this! It’s only when we’re pushing ourselves outside of our normals hours and routines that we suddenly realise that there are other beautiful hours to experience. Your poetic voice is clear and it moves softly from observation of the colours of the morning to wondering if anyone else is experiencing the same beauty. There’s a strong sense of this being a solitary figure, but the isolation is not negative: there’s a sense of growing awareness. Lovely!

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