Hazy Dreams

Hazy morning highway,

A headlight caravan

Is drifting from the hilltop:

Processional unplanned.

The summer sun is rising

A special kind of light,

A suited sort to coffee brewed

On coals left from last night.

I'd rather to be camping

Than heading home to bed,

I'd rather to be taking in

The morning things unsaid.

I'd rather have the dew fresh,

The skin that feels not quite,

I'd rather wake to hear you up

And see you just outside.

I'd rather to see first thing

The way you squint your eyes,

The hair untamed this early,

The grumble, grumble… *sigh*

The backdrop could be mountains,

Could be forests, pristine lakes...

Still of all the views each morning

Only one my breath would take.