The dawn chorus long since gone <br />a lone blackbird trills his song <br />to the day's blue bloom. <br />My pillows are clouds I float upon, <br />my bed, a safe, warm womb. <br /> <br /> <br />Reaching out, I turn the radio on, <br />a voice of doom announces further gloom, <br />my digit moves the dial a touch along <br />anf the thrill of Mahler's fourth <br />fills the room. <br /> <br />Despite the date, it's Friday the Thirteenth, I rise, <br />silly, furry slippers greet my feet, <br />curtains drawn, my eyes meet radiant skies, <br />each day a bright and welcoming <br />new leaf.<br /><br />Neil Crawford<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/turning-over/
