The morning sunrise,
Feels a little bit early,
Rousing me from sleep.
My sigh is a cloud,
On an otherwise clear day,
Rising to the skies.
Frost rimes the window,
Frames the world a wintry hue,
Melting into spring.
Cat slowly stretches,
Yawning away a long nap,
Stretching, feeling wild.
Old man settles in,
A blanket across his lap,
As cool air grows warm.
Discarded Recollections 