Sleepy sunrises quilted in dawn and dew,

when dreams hand humid

around the crown of day

and waking seems inescapable.

Lazy mornings stretching quietly

toward the tasks ahead,

when restless fingers weave rops of trust

and work seems less like a chore.

Busy noons kicking off their shoes

and skipping into sunsets of salt and sand,

firm and cool beneath naked toes

staring into a sleepy sun:

A glance into a world opposite your own.

Chuckling dusks melting silently

into nighttimes passed crouching,

hugging knees in secret banter.

Midnights that ease between earth and sky

and invite the sun into a new day.

A sun that brings all good things nearer.