Sleepy Riser

Wake to the golden trees

And the crisp air.

The wet grass

And the messy hair.

From bed you rise,

And wrap yourself quickly,

To fight the cold that the wind is bringing.

As the leaves fall,

Red and yellow in their wake,

You close your eyes

And return to sleep.

It’s not quite worth it yet,

And you still have time.

The day does not begin

Until the sun hits the sky.