Every morning is the same
breakfast in the dark,
brushing your teeth still half asleep,
putting your jeans on completely backwards,
The smell of your straightner
mixed with your dad’s coffee
Then the cold morning air
The new sun barely poking through the trees
Ice cold bus seats
All the kids have earbuds in
so it’s quiet enough for you to be lost
in last night’s dreams
Then the bus rounds the corner
sputtering it’s way to school
The sun is up
lighting a path of gold
and you are frozen in the light
Time too
seems to pause in the glow
Even the wires looped in the sky
are beautiful in the morning rays
A puff of an engine
And you shake off the heavy mystic feeling
and you follow the crowd into your school 
Every morning you wait again
but the world can’t align just right again
for you to bathe in the morning gold

“So dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay,” -Robert Frost