That time of day where words are not required…silence carries a life of its own. The homeless man whose weary feet, too heavy to continue, marks a spot to rest an hour or five. The rush hour street car groans its morning tune…his lullaby.
Heros of the night who keep watch for those where pain and suffering visit at two in the morning..nursing homes, hospitals, police stations, helplines…winding down their long day seeing flashes of their comfy bed mingled with the trauma they just witnessed. No words…just thoughts, visions…turning into a steady hum.
Stray cats seek a dry abode, giving chirping critters the eye that says it all. Birds chant their morning praise, feeling lucky to be alive… singing melodies of joy, hoping to see that worm raise its lovely head…
Bakeries and coffee shops are already ready to help mankind jump-start the day.
Mornings are such a foreign thing to her. So, this is how the other half lives …some starting their day and others winding down. She, falls in between …feels as if she is always trying to catch up…
Hear the silent hum
Brew at dawn