The morning was late. <br />I didn’t even have the time to rub my eyes <br />Already woken by the afternoon wind. <br />I’m running to you <br />By the damp edge of the day <br />Between the dew drops <br />I spill words from my sleeve <br />Like magicians pull pigeons <br />And you sip coffee and don’t even glance <br />At how the sky above us turns blue.<br /><br />Ivona Sophia<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-morning-was-late/
