The rooster sounds reveille, but I am already awake
and swimming upwards from a dream of drowning
into bathwater-warm air, saturated with the night’s breaths.
At least in my dream the water was cool.
Sinking back, submerging again into sleep
the flickering in my chest, in my scalp, pulls me up.
Morning meds, a glance at the sky, and back to bed.
Nightmares are a side effect, supposedly,
but I long to sink back into dreams.
The rooster has woken the magpies, their songs flow –
silver streams, winding and twining through
a dawn of grey freshwater pearl,
leading me back to cool waters.
anotherKate 
So peaceful…
🙂 thanks Paula
Excellent prose, but then, I’m not surprised. You are an excellent writer.
Thank you Roger ❤
Oh very nice! I love the last stanza
Thanks Worms 🙂
one forty five am
skate
why
oh me oh my
call the cop
and only then did they stop~
I’d take 5am roosters and magpies over that!
or tune into knopfler 5 15 am~
🙂 I hadn’t heard it before. Thanks for the suggestion.
yw a nice early morning cut. as well as boom! like that was them of us that is manic alot.
As always, you bring a smile to my face. As I begin my 82nd year shortly, I find myself focusing more on finding the hidden pathway of peacefulness and solitude and turning away from the worn, dusty roadway the herd follows every day. Thank you!
Thank you Al 🙂 I always enjoy reading your posts – they have a serenity about them I am often envious of, which seems effortless.