AN EARLY STROLL
I walk
slowly.
The grass stretches
and kisses
my feet
with dew.
I feel the sun,
weak
(it’s early)
on my coated back.
The spring
will soon
be here.
Somewhere
a bird sings
from a
yellow beak
pointing
at a cobalt sky.
Today
will be good
but first
I must return.
I am hungry
and breakfast
awaits.