Clean Air

A step into the laundered air of morning
leaves dreams to simmer, glower and escape.
I glance toward the sunrise, pink melting into fiercest blue.
A sparrow etched in silhouette against the morning sky
pretends, like me, to be the only one awake ---

I was wrong, my oak tree fills with tweets and feathers
happy bicycle-bells chime "good morning! Off to school"
Breathing deep the cleansing air
I know that life is good to me.
I'm reluctant to wake you my dear husband,
if only you could return and keep me company.

Marjon van Bruggen
July 2015