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                                  Right, art - 

            It's supposed to be artistic.

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It starts with a cup of coffee, 

a keyboard

and the darkened silhouette 

of tree branches,

.

bare, frosty 

in the early morning 

and crocheting the open air

into complete, and perfect stillness.

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            music

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As the sun comes up 

and the coffee cup 

empties and fills, dim light

begins to temper

.

my window view

into an emerging sense 

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                        of color.

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            I see the image of a stunning woman

            breaking through the surface 

            of still-water - rivulets, 

            sheen, spray - and then the low sun 

.

            starts to fan its warmth 

            onto the interlacing of the world. 

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Birds come out, not many -  

these are birds of a different variety.

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Ravens reign supreme here - coats of feathers

so thick 

that it's as if they were made from fur -  

and frost gathers 

.

on every length, every pinion,

each layered tuft of muted plumage.

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Still, 

.

the small ones come out in the early morning 

and I can hear their waking call 

trickling through the caulking 

that insulates my window.

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            music

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The sky turns from black, 

to gray, 

to a softened shade 

of ochre-yellow

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and the angular plane 

of snow-covered rooftops,

over 

pastel lengths of hardie-board,

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ascend into the silence - 

.

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            as though they had just arisen 

            directly from the ground -

            waiting for the light to fall 

            before breaking out of frozen soil 

.

            as mycelian, patterned mounds.

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Dawn draws the horizon line - 

coniferous in its length - 

fading into the morning sky 

and blurring into distance. 

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            music

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The day begins 

with an embellished line -  

a wall of waning,

pointed trees 

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spearing into frozen air

and obscuring coexistence

between 

the bedding of a blooming sun 

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and the curtain in the trees.

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