An Aubade for Work Days

Winter
mornings were starless dark some days,

though some
splashed a sparkle of stars

overhead to
make the leaving worthwhile,

and cold deep
dawns were lit with a startling bright moon

to be stared
at in moonstruck delight.

Barely
spring, some light seeps in early when sleep

would be
more welcome than waking for work;

feeble
weakling glow through curtain corners and those

tiny cord-holes
in Venetian blinds, spots of light peering like

the eyes of
rodents, waiting for a sprinkle of morning breakfast crumbs.

Rising still
sooner summer’s sun splashes a sticky light that

clings to
the bedroom walls and stirs from restless dreams

the sleeper
who paddles through the thick morning air

to breathless
consciousness and a wondering when

winter
mornings were last starless dark.

(NaPoWriMo’s optional prompt for April 6, 2015
was: “Today’s (optional) prompt springs from the form known as the aubade.
These are morning poems, about dawn and daybreak. Many aubades take the
form of lovers’ morning farewells, but . . . today is Monday. So why not try a
particularly Mondayish aubade . . .”)