Hotel of the Rising Sun

A desert sunrise is a heavenly event
The clouds part and the moonbeams fade away
The fog recedes into the concrete
A hush takes hold as the sun nears the sandy docks

The motel manager stirs the coffee
And opens a jar of jam for the oven burnt toast
The sun floats above the dune shelves
And strikes the man’s brow with a fiery hiss

“Damn, it’s gonna be a hot day”

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