The early mornings are the only time
Quiet and alone
Time to wait to act
Everything asleep
except the birds
singing for who knows what reason
sometimes it is so still
and other times
the tops of the trees sway
to hidden breezes
that never reach the ground
sometimes they move
all the way to the bushes
all swaying
reminding me of the way you move
the gentleness
the rhythm
it is early in the morning
too early to worry
about the things that don't let me sleep
the sun has not lit
the waving tree tops
the waves of anguish
have not reached me
the breeze cools my fever
it is still my time
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