I don’t mind early mornings disguised as night,  disguised as twilight  dis

I don’t mind early mornings disguised as night, 

disguised as twilight 

disguised as late summer sunsets.

The sky is black; the sky is a shade of mauve, gray,

the sky.

The sky swallows my dreams, spits them into a cup of coffee and they swirl round and round

around.

There are no birds to greet the morning.

Nobody survives the winter chill.