I must rest.

It's the end of my day,
and days go too quickly now.
They whisper in sleeping ears before sunrise,
tease me with bird-song,
with the redolence of exotic coffee
and freshly squeezed grapefruit.

New day
reminds me of unfinished chores,
of people I haven't called,
of the text of my unfinished story
that resides in the crystal memory
of silicon
nestled in a 21st century PC.

Then it's sunset and birds off to nest,
barking dogs waiting for dinners.
Apple green skies.
Bashful California sunsets
wrapped in gray coastal fog.
Night is here.
A full moon rises.

I must rest.

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