..-. — .-. .. .-. .- —
Morning clouds in disarray
Bright and cold, this is your day
Ten points off the rising sun
Tell me why I feel this way?
Tell me what you’ve been and done
Silhouette in solid space
Future’s half-forgotten face
Stillness grudgingly withdrawn
Far off engines mutter dawn
Slow to wake and slow to thaw
You’d become my paragon
Hope that time could not withdraw
Gone too long, returned too soon
Stowed and moored by afternoon
Scrambling spotters, busy clerks
‘Til this evening’s fireworks
Dancing through the final song
Rubbing hair and other perks
Heart ungimbaled, stomach wrong
Ship returning, fortunes won
Voyage ended, and begun