Morning Route
One summer I assisted my youngest with her paper route. This is what can happen with time to think and walk and deliver papers when no one else is out and about. Half hour before the birds sing my internal clock at odds with early waking I begin my route the veil of darkness lifts to greet the dawn mist rises from the riverbed as from the forgotten land of Brigadoon and birds trill to greet the sun basking in quiet suburbia too sleepy even for its morning coffee I walk house to house street by street my load lighter with every delivery my list embedded in memory now every day subscribers, weekends only in mailbox, on doorstep rolled and bagged even the complainers the sleepers will soon awaken and expect a perfect paper Published in Tower Poetry