At 5 o'clock a million things
It's five o'clock in the morning, it's -5,
my dog pisses as she stares at me.
Her steam, my breath as one
I think she's laughing.
I'm laughing, I'm wearing shorts and a beanie.
What is this,
eccentric englishness?
Stars in silver sulphide pierce a frigid sky
a Supernova vents it's dying throes.
She stands from squat,
the Blackbird sings
at five o'clock
a million things.
Audio and Video at link below
https://wolfgarwords.com/2025/01/10/at-five-oclock-a-million-things/
Hélène
Fri 10th Jan 2025 13:26
A sparkling poem that drops the reader right into the scene. Love the imagery of the laughing dog and owner. Write on, David!