Aubade
Red, bedside digits read 6:30,
Followed by day, date and month.
The house creaks in a sharp, March wind,
The boiler fires.
In windows, earliest light resolves
The yard and garden, an apple tree.
I’m as one with pillows and blanket,
The alarm set to far-off 7:00.
Three squirrels, a ribbon of squirrels,
Tag madly around the trunk.