The All-Nighter // Josiah Coen
How many mornings
are greeted by birds
outside the window
birds that I watch
go to sleep
and rise to sing
the sun I watch
settle down
as we spin around
How many mornings
are hidden
by hands over eyes
hands that work
on everything yet
nothing in particular
objects so interesting
eyes forget to blink
and the brain forgets to think
are greeted by birds
outside the window
birds that I watch
go to sleep
and rise to sing
the sun I watch
settle down
as we spin around
How many mornings
are hidden
by hands over eyes
hands that work
on everything yet
nothing in particular
objects so interesting
eyes forget to blink
and the brain forgets to think
