The strengthening sunlight surrounded
the mist-dampened patio furniture
squeezing steam into the morning atmosphere
hoping to see the dying fog revived.
One brave thrush danced the two-foot hop on the wet lawn
eyeing fat orange grubs willing to give up
a future as a beetle for one as orange pigment
on a beautiful bird flying high into the dawn.
The black water pot now red refracted
hot water for coffee from Canada, left-over 
from a visiting friend, a memory extracted
by coarse ground conical pour-over.
Morning. It’s another day on planet Earth
Recycling the eternal atoms of Universal birth.

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