Maybe you'll wake up tomorrow and it'll all be gone.
There's more that rises in the morning than the sun. . . A music higher than the songs that I can sing.
We all wanna go there something awful, but to stand there takes some grace.
The sound of a car, the color of the pre-dawn sky. A trip to the office with my dad, on the back of his motorcycle, in the industrial green van.
Midnight blue. Dark willow, the color of my purple-brown hoodie. Periwinkle becoming pink then perfectly sky blue.
Pre-dawn airplane, sleepy and hopeful, children imagining, anticipating new smells, weather, going far or going home.
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