Morning Hits Poem by Carolyn Brunelle

Morning hits you right in the face.
The sunlight of reality in the mirror
is an altogether different place
and says it all;
you were dreaming.

You are NOT young and beautiful;
was the old photo of a friend
you restored for her in photo shop;
..sigh..
aren't we all timeless in dreams.

Stumble to first cup of morning joy
flashes of a little boy, your little boy,
playing his video games.
Your 'Doctor son', a lifetime ago,
makes you smile...who could know;
the new pic of mom's sister,
your own mom and how you miss her.

Eyes come into focus, the whirlwind slows;
you find your feet, your right mind as you go.
Finally awake and ready for your day
last night's dreams have faded away.
Well, almost
except for the cute little unicorn..
maybe you'll let that little one stay.