In the morning,
the dew lays upon the grass,
so soft,
so silent.
The sun begins to rear his sleepy head,
banishing the moon for the day,
and his rays angelicize the trees
behind whom he rises.
The city stirs to life,
casting off the hours of quiet
that follow the parties,
and prelude the work day.
But I don't notice.
I'm asleep.
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