It’s an early morning
The birds that wake the still-asleep
Are woken up by me
Meandering the silent streets
As quiet as can be
Not quite enough
Not quiet enough
As ears can plainly see
The birds are shouting “Quiet down!”
From high atop their tree
A Poetic Dive into the Creative Unconscious
It’s an early morning
The birds that wake the still-asleep
Are woken up by me
Meandering the silent streets
As quiet as can be
Not quite enough
Not quiet enough
As ears can plainly see
The birds are shouting “Quiet down!”
From high atop their tree