
i stop, mid-run,
because this sunrise
will never repeat.
i stop, mid-run,
because this sunrise
will never repeat.
golden trumpet
lives up to its name
when sunrise strikes.
the sun rises
between the palm trees,
i see reflected
the one true sun
rises over the lake;
imposters abound
an orange streak
burns across the water â
brightly but briefly
a walk in the park.
eyes glued to the rising sun,
a crow dive-bombs me.
the sun rises behind a bare rain tree, a glowing heart