Mornings

I feel the new day first, goosebumps prickle my skin as cold air jolts me into consciousness

A screech in the silence, I yawn, beckoning even the birds to start to sing

My eyes open, looking for the shadows of my morning friends through the burnt orange curtains

On a walk before the heat creeps in, a deep breath, allowing the sweet honeysuckle and wet grass to fill my nostrils

The first sip of coffee, nutty, acidic, strong, the day has begun.