It is 6:40 in the morning,
And I watch out the window leading to the world.
The sky has just begun to lighten
With the intimate promise of spring.
I wonder how much time I will have with you
Until the icy blackness on the sidewalk melts into soft rain
Into the perennial daffodils that will die into the flourishing fullness of the grass.
The late summer trees outside the window that once knew you better than I
Will soon emerge yet again to know you and to love you just as I do
It feels wrong that these trees will have you when I cannot
Standing proud and mocking me with their offer of endless time
Outside the window.
The birds chirp a hysterical hymn ushering in the new season
All at once the air feels expired like sour milk
Choking and forcing me to open the window and face those taunting trees
And that sickening bird
Constraining me to give you up.
My eyes tear away from the window
And it's 6:41 in the morning.
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