I cringe as the light slowly settles in on my pale skin wrapped in sheets. How is it that I feel almost gone at the break of a new day? I wonder to myself, or I may have said aloud. My neighbors seem to rush on by quickly, as the steam rising from my coffee burns my lips and wakes me up. People running, sweeping, brushing by my still half drooped eyes and I move only frame by frame taking note of this. The trees must be tickling the wind forcing it to bounce back and forth from side to side blowing my unkempt hair over my face and the smoke from my “Good morning” cigarette seems to be dancing, which brightens the daylight though I am not sure why. This is routine, from my third story apartment porch the real world darts on by moving at a swift pace only a mind could fathom, though I am here as an observer and my body moves leisurely to say the least in comparison, though who is comparing?  

8 thoughts on “Daybreak

  1. I used to spend mornings just like that when I was commuting to a city 700 miles from home. I never wanted to be a part of what was going on around me. I was happy to sit on my porch and smoke my cigarettes and have my coffee and watch the world go by.

  2. Sometimes it’s better to be an observer of the morning hustle and bustle. I used to live in a major city and the AM traffic jams were just annoying. I would have much rather watched from a balcony with a cup of tea (I don’t drink coffee, but probably should :))

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