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Rated: E · Poetry · Nature · #2042010
I love the crisp morning air...
I love the crisp morning air

as I step outside.

Birds began their song

hours ago

whilst the pale silver clouds

stand guard between

the sun and me.



Tree branches rustle in the wind

as hummingbird feeders

stand empty;

blue jays squawk as they fight

mid-air

over whose territory this is.



Our California drought

saw to us letting the grass die

long ago,

yet tangerine and tuna trees

all around

provide an enhanced verdant scenery

along with the lawn’s weeds.



The day might grow hot –

or not,

for one can never really predict the weather,

at least not here

in the Bay Area.

Nocturnal night owl turned early bird

I am;

how fortunate I am to carpe diem.
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