I am glad this morning when I do not have to get up ridiculously early to catch a train to Sydney.
My mouth hates the taste of toothpaste and early mornings.
My eyes rebel against replacing the sun with artificial lights so early.
I like the way the sun gives us time to say goodbye to the darkness,
colouring the edges with orange and the middle with shadowed blue.
The car headlights can’t wash out the stars tonight.
Most people don’t stare at the stars, at least they’re not impolite.
But I stop the car and get out, to watch this slow moving show,
Thousands of years in the making, still celestial and slow.
Catch the train to outer space,
Or to any other place.
The fireflies will not catch you,
Not when the skies are this blue.
The last thing on earth is not pretty,
We won’t say goodbye to our city.
There’s a valley of sand stretching across from the edges,
Nothing but sand.
When we reach the fork of the road, we shan’t burn our bridges,
But we must go overland.
Let’s let the wind decide, our coat tails billow and snap,
And carry us high.
Our surprise is soon lost in the clouds of loud thunderclap,
Open a weather eye.
Does the sunshine let you sleep more smoothly than the jagged edge of night,
When the skies are made of parchment and the clouds are very light?
Does you spend the lightless morning on the sand crusted edge of sea,
Waiting for the sun, and counting each wave that comes up to your knees?
Far away from the seas,
A heavy river of wind pushes the leaves in the trees.
I close my eyes and,
It sounds like a full and deep ocean is skimming the top of the skies.
What’s the story here? What do you think? I think she sounds a bit lonely.