my morning sun

the clouds' persistance pervades
the fog a stubborn standstill
but the window is ajar
it's a warm damp
and the crows caw
like they are
spilling spring's secret
it's hiding
under its covers
groggy
unwilling to awake
no use is your impatience
time will always
act on its own terms
and no need really
for me
i turn my back on the windows
curl back
upunder
the covers
and watch my sun rise