Morning Allusions 1969

In going through a box of papers I came across a pile of old old poems written in late 60’s, early 70’s. So having no shame I’m resurrecting them with minimal editing. Enjoy 🙂

Morning Allusions 

the bravest breath of morning’s

prophetic dawn came whispering

through the frost glazed glass

of my window to the sun


cold hardwood floor damns my futile

attempts as last moment warmth

by taking my thoughts

& turning them into creaking

inflexible bone-cutting steel


the hissing sound of man made


slowly fills the cold empty

cavern with its welcome promise


in other rooms

of far off worlds mumbles

suddenly hush as they all are gone

except me who is tangled in the last

fleeing dream, before I fall, startled

awake for the fourth & final time


up some mosaic staircase

my feet rush

to make their way outside

where another stream of thought

strikes & the morning is lost

In inputing this piece I tried to stick to my many 1970 edits on the original. I did drop some of the punctuation. My bedroom at that time was in the basement of my parents’ house. I had a ground level window & the room was a bit of a cavern. The ‘man made warmth’ of the furnace would start up frequently. I easily sense the influence of the spoken section of The Moody Blues Night In White Satin. You also detect my enjoyment of alliteration. 

Hey! Now you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy coffee on my trip to Cape Breton – sweet,eh? 

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