A poem

(a rough draft, oh and be kind, I haven't had a poetic thought in a very long time)

Good Morning

by: Kendra

Alarm blasts me out of peaceful sleep

and my arms, legs stumble

pull on clothes and shoes.

I tiptoe out the door

into the cool, fresh air.

My legs carry me down one hill,

past houses that sit sleepily,

and up another,

my feet hit the pavement in rhythm.

Deer in the field pick up their heads,

their ears perk up,

waiting to see

if I am a threat.

Fluffy white tail flicks as agile legs carry them over

the fence and closer to the river.

The sun is my only companion now,

it's pink and yellow eases over

eastern peaks, squeezes through

clouds and melts down into the sleeping valley.

I breath in deeply the new air,

my body is waking up, muscles are warmer and eyes brighter.

I hear a slow flapping above me,

it is a grey heron, his long legs tucked tightly

into his body. He pays me no mind

just flaps slowly and strongly towards the river.

As he passes, I see a small thing flittering

around the fence--a flash of yellow,

then, the song.

Montana's bird fills the morning with its song

and I smile.

Rewards for waking with the dawn

to run are great

when God's creatures appear

to sing, flap and flick

their good mornings'.