Spring Sunrise

Lingering just outside of work, still in my old car,
In the dark hours before the sunrise,
While false flurries fall like discarded static.

The car stereo beats a rhythm that aches around me,
Yet the world seems awfully dim ‘neath yellow headlights,
Yearning for something lost
In that transient strangeness of an earlier Spring.

Like our breath, I stopped a long time ago,
Waiting here where you’d always know where to find me.

Those stolen moments before reality settled in.

Gas station coffee
Tastes especially bitter,
Just before sunrise.