Goodmorning

This poem will define my morning.

I'll either roll over on pens of solace or on the other side.

Silent.

I'll either open the drapes and let the sun perform or close them tightly like darkness for a nap.

This morning will determine if I live.

Live under sunny side eggs that were flipped by a partner swallowed in my knitted scarf.

Or are those just to hide the gulps when she says;

'Goodmorning Honey'.

Some days are dreadful right?

The sugar cubes hardened and the black-bitter coffee has to do.

As the Sunday paper covers stories of red, white and blue.

I thought that little black boy was in my dream.

I wish it was a dream.

Later that day he'd be seen on the TV screen.

Morning news.

Morning blues.

This morning will determine if I go outside;

Take my vitamins A & D.

One to detangle the thoughts that are knotted & nappy.

The other to clench my soul and make it smile.

This morning I dance in lighting.

This morning I sing in rain.

Good morning to some days;

Some mornings also I reign.

This morning will decide my color,

but I always start off gray.

Fill my palate until the color collides

Color my skies, my sun & my grass

Til my Good morning's look

Okay.

Copyright © Via Shondawho

LaShonda Midgett