New Day

Rooster, when I saw you
across the road
perched on the railing
with your head angled
toward angels’ way,
your early-morning song
pierced the sleepy air,
night’s dew-damp air,
like trumpet sound.

Loud One, when I saw you
perched on the railing
with feathered balance balanced,
your wakeful call
gleefully announced
newness, the special appeal,
of a one-of-a-kind day,
one patterned like no other
in earth’s sky or sea design.

I saw you. I heard that exclamation.
I wanted to jump up there with you,
tilt my chin upward, in full-skyward balance,
and harmonize with you, rooster style, Sir.

I’ll join flowers unfolding hours of change.
You, Rooster, keep squawking. You delight us
bringing light of day in such a slap-happy way.

 

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