A little earlier every morning
and a little brighter by waking.
A faint hint of blue
between downtown fingers.
Plum-tree pink splashed in
park corners and back yards.
The threat of rain circling
the city gates like a thirsty army.
The desperate traces of night
clinging to the daphne petals.
I’ve been waiting for your return,
anxious to bask in your praise and glamour.