More About Sunrise

Sews a flag, that’s what the boy does

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If he raises his arm slowly, all of history

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This morning apples start falling

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“We kid you not,” say the dogs

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“Shine: clear dew aching with light.”

― Tu Fu

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Happenstance far off harmonica

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Half awake, still inside a window, certain of himself

Author: skuusisto

Poet, Essayist, Blogger, Journalist, Memoirist, Disability Rights Advocate, Public Speaker, Professor, Syracuse University View all posts by skuusisto