Member-only story
Good Morning
A poem, and some early morning thoughts on what goes on.
New poetry this am, on a whim, from the kitchen table. What does it mean to notice what goes on beneath the busyness of life? There’s serenity and peace there. I found it for the first time about twenty years ago when all was going to shit. And poetry has the uncanny knack of pointing to it, of saying what cannot be said. To not be explicit, is the aim of the exercise. Work, and all that has to be done, is fine. What I find in these places and times is something other than that.
I hope you have a place to find it too.
Good morning.
As I sit in my kitchen,
In my usual spot, in the corner, at the end of the table,
Staring at the morning through my window,
At the bright, cold day,
At the clear blue sky,
At the sun as it rises through the trees,
Its milky yellow glow,
It’s mild warmth on my face,
Hiding my eyes behind the window frame to spare my sight,
At the blackbirds, woodpigeons, magpies, and jays,
At whispy clouds that thinly cover the early morning sky,
I get a funny feeling, that it is all of me.
© Larry G. Maguire 2025
Original https://open.substack.com/pub/anassemblage/p/good-morning
Thanks for reading. You can get these as soon as I publish them over here.