When I woke up this morning, it was six-barely-something and still full-on dark. But since I felt rested I put on the coffee and a lamp and started reading.
It wasn't too long before this happened.
How beautiful the dawn is
its slow stretch awaking
grey-eyed and soft, as if trying to remember
all the colours in the world
then placing them, one by each
their own leaf,
And maybe that's just what happens when you read Susan Musgrave too early in the day.