7:44 AM in Southwest Colorado
The porch bell is silent--at last.
I took it down to stop its clanging.
The wind rustles the bushes
that promise spring
with barely discernible buds,
but the slate gray sky
threatens snow.
A single truck roars by,
announcing morning.
I hear a groan back the hallway.
The troops are rising.
Time to get breakfast.
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