steam
from stale cold breath
shades her car windows

saving the few
dollars left
to run
the engine

a couple of hours
after sunrise
the coldest ones
of the day-night

no science class
imparted
these months
of observation

for in the dark
anonymity
of the night
she’d dress
in warm layers

thick knitted socks up
to her knees
wrapping herself
in a blanket
in a head wool cap

trying to grab
the last few hours
of sleep
just before passing eyes
would begin to peep

as daylight seeps
through the windshield
she brushes her rare hair
coiling it in a bun

draws two black lines
over a pair
of dark circled eyes

hurries to pour her
orange pekoe tea
with sugar
from her plugged kettle

holding and hugging
her mug
religiously
she switches on her cd

Grieg’s ‘Morning’ playing
in time to attend
wide-eyed
the sky’s awakening
in symphony

nectarine hued
a classical reveille
grandioso,
crescendo,
decrescendo
greeting the day

with lowered lids and fluttering
her lashes
she listens

to the diminuendo
of the masterpiece

a new day is born

– Rosana Sam