A Typical June Morning

I look over
it’s that time again
3:30 in the a.m. of course.
I’m getting quite comfortable
with this,
especially in mid June,
at three thirty.
It is only one more hour until –
four thirty.
Four thirty is the time of magic
in June.
It’s the time to arise,
to end the torment,
the tossing and turning
it can end at four thirty
because at four thirty
natures alarm rings.
It rings in it‘s glory,
with all the notes of the octave
but only in June – at four thirty.

The Now

Permission is given.
Like a child on Christmas morning,
I rush out of bed
to greet my gift.
This gift I can see
but I don’t know what’s inside.
Where was it left?
In the usual spot.
It’s a shared gift.
One that isn’t always charged
by no-ones fault
or neglect
it just happens some times.

But

This morning
The red light shines like an old star,
a star that will burn for an eternity
or a few more billion years.
The charge is good…

I Write.                                                                             J McSween, June2008

3 comments

  1. cynicallyengineered

    Jackie,

    This is very good stuff. The imagery is awesome, the tone makes it feel very much like watching an actual Sunrise. There’s magic here, alright.

    I think you are a genuinely talented poet. Please keep writing. You’re doing social service here!

    🙂

  2. Joanna Gilman Hyde Blair

    Jackie: Did you know that the hours between three and five in the morning are when most people die (those who are dying “naturally”)? (My mother told me that, but then she died at nine on a Saturday night — same day and time as my daughter was born.)

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