Early morning in my small town:

Tyres whizzing over pavement

In varied tune of size and speed;

Tits about in bare trees with

Constant chat through twisting twigs.

People and birds are on the move.

 

But I am still in bed.

Yellow daffodils light the sill,

Their glow of gold as bold as sun.

The flowers and I just 'are'.

How grateful I am for their bright beauty

As I open my eyes today.

 

Cynthia Buell Thomas, March, 2020