The Eastern Edge.
When I awaken, sun on the eastern edge
and I know it's time but I still don't want to get out of bed
in the grey to the blue to the glow to gold and yellow
in my mind eyes far too closed I plan my day
the breeze in the fronds of the palm out front
the dreams I had last night still live and dancing
still I hang on with time to spare
window open fresh to smell the morning air
to stretch my neck I turn my head and still you are there
it's time to start our day.
Jere (1978)
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