Day tornadoes into life.

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Morning whispers on my

skin like a frozen breeze

dragging me into the waking world,

pulling me to my knees.

Morning whispers on my mind

like the lacerated edge of

a blade, a blue one, the blue kind

that slips through mercilessly.

Morning whispers through my dreams

tearing me away

before I get a chance to see

you. Still, i’ll dream another day.

Morning whispers into the day

like a whirlwind of frosted blades

of grass as they sway,

as day tornadoes into life.

 

Karen Hayward ©2016