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Rated: E · Poetry · None · #2187012
8am in October
Autumn Morning

I’m sitting on a porch
It’s 8am
The dew sets on the grass
The fog rolls in

The air is cold
I can see my breath
The fog begins to clear
The coffee warms my hands

The school bus passes
The jogger follows
The flannel hugs my shoulders
I watch the sun rise

My house is empty
There’s a deer in my yard
The only sound is birds
The light escapes the trees

Children cross the street
I retreat inside
My cup is empty
The sun burns my eyes

My cat rubs my leg
The clock ticks on the wall
I go back to bed
There is no reason to be awake
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