Why do we bother with the rest of the day,
the swale of the afternoon,
the sudden dip into evening,
then night with his notorious perfumes,
his many-pointed stars?

This is the best—
throwing off the light covers,
feet on the cold floor,
and buzzing around the house on espresso—
maybe a splash of water on the face,
a palmful of vitamins—

but mostly buzzing around the house on espresso,
dictionary and atlas open on the rug,
the typewriter waiting for the key of the head,
a cello on the radio,
and, if necessary, the windows—

trees fifty, a hundred years old
out there,
heavy clouds on the way
and the lawn steaming like a horse
in the early morning.
~Billy Collins “Morning”

Dawn is a new gift every day,
even when the previous night was sleepless.
I rise early to see just what might happen
as you never know what might be
just over the horizon.
Soon we’ll round the solstice corner
to face the encroaching darkening.

So why do I bother with the rest of the day?
Morning is always the best…

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RxClQ_pInzc