Moonlit Morning

Something precious is lost if we rush headlong into the details of life without pausing for a moment to pay homage to the mystery of life and the gift of another day. ~Kent Nerbern

Only Moment

Moon floods the morning kitchen,
trumps even the coffeepot
for my attention.
I am drawn onto the deck
to stand in the stillness,
the only sound a soft purr
from the cat on the rail
rubbing herself against my winter robe–
not even a meow of greeting.
My headache gives way to wonder:
clouds racing through the constellations.
The only moment of its kind, I think
as I move on
to poems, coffee, books.

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3 Responses to Moonlit Morning

  1. Magyar says:

    At ten… my grandson, when I asked why he was up so early, quite matter-of-factly said: “sometimes, Papa, ya just hafta smell the morning.” I hope he never forgets, I’ll not.
    _m

  2. Cheryl says:

    I just love you wonderful way with words, and your personal poetry. What a beautiful invitation to glimpse your snapshots of your life 🙂
    in gratitude… Cheryl

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