A Quiet Morning Poem by Rowena Velasco
A Quiet Morning
It's early;
The temple roofs are quiet,
Clouds cross the sky,
slow enough to notice.
Below, rows of marigolds--
bright, crowded,
just being there
without any ceremony.
The lamp posts stand there:
White,
unchanged,
used to mornings like this.
Nothing asks for attention.
The morning stays…
I stay with it
a little longer.
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12/23/2025 3:39:01 AM # 1.0.0
