morning rose slowly
uncertain of her path
whether to hang her tear-filled clouds
or light the sun and laugh
searching through her swatches
she discovered a dreary gray
stapling it to the blanket of night
and presenting it as the day
a ritual runner grew curious
disbelieving of his eyes
was this to warn of a coming storm
or simply a disguise
consulting at last the calendar
she exhaled in full gale force
sending a child in search of his hat
as the autumn leaves tumbled their course
leaning against a lamppost now
the hat surrendered without a fight
as the boy smiled bright in victory
and danced with true delight
suddenly warmed by this glow of innocence
and realizing what she'd done
the morning struck a match to the sky
and gave the day a sun
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