In the dark the hum of morning stirs
The chill air settled crisp upon the grass
Inside all is silent, close, calm.
Eyes still red with night awake in
The blackness again and again.
Thoughts freely miander
Across plains of sleep and consiousness
Firing in sporadic motion like a
Shoal of fish.
Engines purr below, work to be done
as sleepy drivers hold near their Tims.
Up here the world still rests. Missing their
Company. Scribbled thoughts a happy
Substitute. Bringing closer the warmth
Of body and comfort of breath.
Dreams of lighter days, days of sun that
seem long gone.