Lake Morning

Creative Commons license CC0

Morning spreads like kissing mist
over the lake.
Like breath.

An hour ago, I watched
the silent sun lick the water,
and dance like scattered marbles
on the surface.

The trail wound down and called,
belled like a hound,
lured like a dream.

Such a rare treat to be
up before the dawn.

Now, the world
returns in a rush and,
regretful,
I turn my bike around.

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1 Comment

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