The alarm twitters on the night stand,
Window panes are glazed frosty dark,
A winter drizzle fogs the morning,
It is a rolling mist of chilled foreboding,
With metallic mouths we greet each other,
Peering from beneath hay stack tousled hair,
Another day reveals itself as a comic,
I listen to the patio wind chimes sing,
They are temple bells calling for meditation,
Although together we harvest the years,
The feeling is that life will never end,
Mornings are the heralds of continued love,
Blurred promises to honor the day,
It expands chrysanthemum tendrils of light,
The window still casts its non-commitment,
So we turn away from its fractal vision,
Inward to the home, to coffee, and each other.
©2011, Donald Harbour
Donald Harbour Poetry 