Sunrise

Soft morning breaks in little blocks
Like butter in the dish.

First tendrils of a newest taste
Easy on the skin, the eyes
Before it begins to sizzle,
And time fries.

Our minds are cold,
Preserved vaguely from the day before.
Freezer burned, some could say,
Refridgerated all the more.

Sunrise is the first reminder,
Surviving the remains of the day
To tell us how it goes;
Working a sleeping recipe
But awaking us-
Our crackling starts-
As it flows.

[Read the post titled Journal Entry for an introduction to this series]