The Morning Poem by Lauren Michaels
The Morning
The pre-morning dew.
Has seeped through our clothes
to the skin.
Aiming steadily towards
The Bone.
Huddling for warmth
And for sheer joy althogether.
We are here
And we couldn't be
Happier.
Out in the air
In the dark and the cold.
In the height
Of everything we are
Could Be.
Like how youre experimenting with different layouts. [Grace Potter] Sus
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/30/2024 1:24:34 PM # 1.0.0.1119
i like how it tentatively ends on be, i also like 'aiming steadily towards the bone'