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 

 

 

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