Jumpers, not goalposts

SPRING IS COMING.

Jumpers, not goalposts

 

Mist rises early

As we stretch, fumble for the light swtich

Then pause, as we realise…

We don’t need it, across the bed we pitch

 

Is that daylight streaming through the curtains?

Staggering, forefinger and thumb pinch

Curtain corner

Cautious, lift and squint, flinch

 

That’s not just daylight, oh no

Not some lousy cloud who’s early doors

That is sunlight, golden, real

Sweeping, flashing shards across the floor! 

 

It seems only yesterday, the first light we’d see

Stumbling out on morning concrete

Was streetlight-illuminated steam-breath

As we stamped our way down still-night streets

 

Now someone has come and given us back the colours

They must have borrowed for the winter break

Forgotten in the corner, suddenly espied

Better slip them back before they’re all awake

 

The world, as do we, blinks into the sun

All shaded eyes and slow circles turning

And the lawns and streams stretch out in the dawn

Morning once again means daylight,  and sunfire burning  

 

And I feel like, maybe, I am waking from a slumber

To rise, rub eyes, pat myself down and go again

Soon we will rip these curtains open

And let that blue sky never end

End 

End 

Let that blue sky never end

 

Sloth out.

 

 

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