First Light Poem by GRANT FRASER

I tap on the window
of a dream,
'No it's not a dream! ',

I move around with
the same ease,
but with a kind of
hesitancy..

What open, what do?
the blinds and curtains,
sky like a muddy white bath,

The birds are unusually quiet
today, and the harbour outside
is mostly empty,

Then I clear up last night's debris,
put dishes away,
replace with cereal bowls,
bananas, breakfast stuff, pills,

I pour an instant and take it away,
with something sugary,
nothing like a hit first thing,
in the morning,

Go to desk, switch everything on,
connect to broadband, check e-mails,
open some photos, contemplate a bit!

What think, where is Planet Earth -
today? this thing follows me around
like an old scratched record, jumping!

Nothing like a little man pushed
up against the very glass of his thought,
first light, 'Anticipating! '.