Scene in Blank Verse

The palest morning blue sky greets me

Gulls gliding over like white m’s,

crying against the wind that moans through the shutters of the houses

clinging for dear life to the cliff-side

The clouds are crystal clear white but they try to

Define their edges with silver light

He hands the warm mug to me, offering a grin and eyebrow raise

That says he knows how I handle mornings and is proud I’m here in front

Of the window watching the sky before the small hand has reached the six

His skating-pond-grey eyes dance with light and

He lifts his coffee to his upturned mouth

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