I sit in the cold truth

of several minutes after four

in the morning, tepid coffee,

the cup bone-white, with navy-blue rim

within easy reach at the laptop.

The prospect of the day

looks pleasant but not exciting

from this foredawn perspective.

A few good things. And the hope

that deeds will not be done badly,

that words will not go haywire,

that plans will not founder or collapse

if they're good and cheerful plans!

It'll get up to eighty today

(that's 27 for most of the world,

doing the Celsius thing). Thunderstorms

during the evening rush, five to seven,

and rain throughout the rest of the night.

I'll see a few people between now and then,

and maybe I'll text the luminous friend

who's come back into my life

after a few years of absence,

and before whose gentle radiance

my heart bows, kneels, rejoices.