by Kevin T McEneaney
When sun is out walking above white clouds
and obviously in a genial mood
with plentiful, bounteous rays spilling
over hills, streams, lakes, trees, fields, and my cap
in transcendence, I prefer to be still
as gray granite boulders burbling upward
from gurgling creek that runs to the vast sea
where sunshine glistens on ocean blue.
While I’m often in a blue funk at dawn,
wondering about preposterous dreams
while drinking milky cups of coffee to
open my eyes for sundry tasks ahead,
some mornings can be so spectacular
that they seem to approach oracular.