Bright morning
the raw scent of
the rising sun
rising.
The birds gossiping
what that star
did to this star
during the night.
Distant murmurs
of fools
nagging
about
how night
became
day
too early.
I smile as I sip
my coffee
bittersweet.
My day came
just in time
for me
to burn it
back away.
YOU ARE READING
Beautiful Madness
PoetryThe Lonely Poet Love Letters to the wolf princess in blue Him and Her I write to pour out my feelings and my imaginations some of my poems may not make sense, but what is "sense" really? This is beautiful madness. Enjoy. Or Not. Victor Forna
