Winds of change

Sometimes sleep comes late into the night

then rising creates challenges.


Will my day mirror the world outside my door?

I ponder my own statement as I step into

the gray soupy fog that blankets the drive.


Out of sync with myself, morning

coffee delayed by an hour or more…


instead of a caffeine jumpstart

there is a slow roll of becoming conscious

without stimulation.


stimulation comes bearing good news

on its wing

the vagabond poet of my youth

wins Nobel Prize

for literature.


this day may swirl with fog

& perhaps later

a hard rain’s gonna fall.


© Nancilynn Saylor


Morning on the street where I live



Author: Nancilynn

Poetess, memoir writing, essays about life; these are the things I write about. I also love to cook, so you'll likely find a recipe or two in this blog. I am passionate about Nature and family, so from time to time I will share pictures-with or without poetry.

4 thoughts on “Winds of change”

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