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