Poem: 5:30 a.m.

Photo/Kendra Yost

Photo/Kendra Yost

He’s inconsolable again
Riding that wave which is his tongue
He knows what he wants
Even with his eyes closed
Early morning sighs of relief
Confident that I’m going to walk up those stairs
Every morning to rescue him
From that wood framed box
Bars disguised as great craftsmanship
Impatience in the form of innocence
Brilliant

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