Nick Sgandurra

Forever Summer

Slow and heavy eyelids open to the light of a newborn day,
Distant birds in the tress sing a morning song of mirth,
Fresh clean air tinged with pollen drifts through the windows,
Around the bed,
Around my hard yet uncorrupted head,
The sun already halfway up the sky, begins to warm the earth.

Same as always done for years,
The same routine it never fails,

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