A distant nightbird mocks the sun
I wake as I have always done
To freshly scented sycamore
And cold bare feet on hardwood floor

My steaming coffee warms my face
I'm disappointed in the taste
But there's a peace the early brings
The morning world of growing things

I feel the moment hurry on
It was today, it's died away
And now it is forever gone

And I will drink my coffee slow
And I will watch my shadow grow
And disappear in firelight
And sleep alone again tonight