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February 5, 2013
A million stilt dancers dressed in
Shocks of shining burnished sunsilk
Scraping the tops of the since shadowed trees
It greets the frosted grass, bringing back green

It wakes up the snow dusted plows
Calls them to duty
It brings our world back to life
Pulling us out of the dream

A light warmer than that of stars
But not always as welcome
Broadcasts an end to the fantasy,
Come back to your world.

The shards of daybreak scrape the crystals out of my eyes
Eyelashes separate from a long held embrace
And flutter as if trying to lift my heavy head from the pillow
I’m ushered in by Sandman’s clean-up crew

Dusty beams prompt my world to rise
Taking me to a world of
Challenge and questions
It’s time to face the day.

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Christopher T. This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Feb. 18, 2013 at 11:12 pm
Thoreau once said that morning is the greatest medicine. I think you've captured that perfectly in this poem. Morning isn't always what we want, but it is what's best for us. 
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