New poem

Morning’s minion

In every house

I’ve ever inhabited,

In every bed, I’ve slept

Facing the rising sun.

I may not rise when

Her rays cross my face.

Her rays may not penetrate

Closed eyes, clouds or curtains.

But like a long time lover

I know when she is there.

My heart soars to her caress

Like little birds arcing in the sky.

When she settles in the west

I settle, too

Sighing into evening

And into bed to face

The rising sun.