Good morning Midwest,
there is joy to be found in objectively
taking the peeking sunrise,
even behind overcast clouds.
It happens so early in fact
that you can taste the shine
of the drinking fountains
lining the walls,
and last night’s perfume
carried still
in vacant halls.
That place is so early; an empty room—
soon to be filled up,
is a peaceful quiet serene,
in all feeling at present,
for a brief moment.
I stand noting the close function
to create this occasion:
I am at least 15 of 60 before any shift
worth getting paid for—
at least;
making the punctual look lazy
and the lazy look dead.
No apology here,
I can’t fix apathy, or ignorance.
I say become besties with the alarm clock,
buy stronger coffee,
cook leaner eggs.
I make my day on time
because I am running out of it,
and you didn’t even notice
while punching in.
Here’s how it’s done:
At night,
in twilight slumbers,
I dream of coming early
on most days
ending in “Y”.
