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I can hear a hummingbird blink
in the stillness of the moment
before the sunrise.
The light beckons, yawning
with the twilight,
Dew refracting the rainbows.
As watchful as I am,
Sleep pulls at me
like a hungry lover
beckoning me into
becoming a burrito.

Dark fur purring
beside me as I contemplate
the moments between
solace and silence,
the hummingbird gone,
to be left alone
with my thoughts
and the purring.
Anais Vionet Jul 31
This morning we jogged early
I was back in my flat by six-thirty
From my tenth floor view of the Charles River basin,
The morning was incandescently flushed by the peach-colored sun.
The transparent clouds seemed stylistically stained, artfully workshopped, which offered a softened, Tiffany glass effect wholly worthy of worship.

I can’t stop to admire it. I’m jamming things into suitcases.
Cramming things into boxes, giving things away.

I had a second interview Monday afternoon, for Johns Hopkins med school. They put the question to me:
“The semester starts in 18 days - can you do that?”
“Yes,” I replied, and just like that, I'm a Blue Jay.
Of course, I had to withdraw from the masters program but Harvard gave me a full (95K) refund - I think they’re more excited about my med school admission than I am.

I’m not afraid of discordant notes.
They change the landscape.
Take us to new emotional places.
Any major work is going to have them.
.
.
A song for this:
Hang on Little Tomato by Pink Martini
It's Amazing by Jem
emgwrites Jul 26
Sometimes
You’re the heavy rain
that ends the thirst and drought.
Sometimes you’re the ocean
between the waves.
Sometimes
You’re the sunrise
That breaks the night.

Sometimes

You’re the train that never arrives.
Thoughts this morning. Feedback is appreciated.
Kalliope Jul 2
I’m not a morning person,
And I’ve never liked birds,
But today I sat outside
With my coffee in hand.

Yeah, it was hot,
But the heat felt good on my skin,
Like the sun was embracing me
As he rose from his slumber,
Like I was the first thing he reached for
When he woke up.

The breeze swayed the grass gently,
Carrying quiet secrets in its sigh,
And for a moment I wondered
If mornings had always felt this kind,
Or if today was just different,
Because I finally let myself enjoy it.

It was a good morning,
My thoughts finally at ease.
I’ve always loved the sunset,
But watching the sky fade
From cool blues to warm hues
Felt special in a way I didn’t expect.
And I wonder if he enjoyed his morning with me too
heidi Jul 2
The world is waking
A cacophony of birds
The sun cracks the sky
Bekah Halle Jun 16
Sunrise, breaking
Is like a distant friend
Returning
From a long sojourn.
Yashkrit Ray Jun 9
A sunrise that no one watches.
Unseen. Unappreciated. Neglected — it dispatches,
From the horizon, looking up at the sky,
Only to see the moon approaching by.
This poem reflects the quiet moments of beauty and hope that often go unnoticed — like a sunrise that no one watches.
Anais Vionet Jun 8
We move through the night,
though the streets seem empty,
we look left and right,
electric vehicles are stealthy.

As we exercise stepwise, sunrise happens.
and black night fades its cover.
Like phoresy, painted, pieces of heaven,
the day opens with primary colors—
reds that delight, oranges that tease
and peacocking yellows that leaven.

As the counterfeit rainbow enchants and rouses,
streetlights waver and douse,
lights flicker on in houses,
and the earth blossoms active in borrowed hues.

Morning twinkles with its particular, angular light,
as we enter the still still lobby.
They’ve already set out the coffee!
With a sip, I feel the morning's started right.
.
.
Songs for this:
Day Tripper by MonaLisa Twins
Our Day Will Come by Amy Winehouse
5:30 AM on the beach
half sun floating on water
like a broken egg yolk
Haiku
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