How odd it was,
To think of that as early...
Winter changes the settings and alarms
Of my circadian clock.
How odd it was,
That my toes felt warm,
Although they greeted the dawn
Before my eyes, in my cold room,
And beheld first light unclothed.
A voice whispered in pain
At the edge of my dream.
How odd it was,
That my house should complain
Of the cold, and ague from aging.
How odd it was,
Upon rising to greet the day,
That life should course, so vital and electric,
Through battered veins,
And laugh to see the dawn.
Mick McKellar
December 2019
Although each day is a gift of life, it's still thrilling and odd to wake up and greet it.
Mick
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