The Morning
Birds are whispering their beautiful songs
The sun is shining over the green fields
Still glowing red from the morning start
Lights are being lit one by one inside
The grass is damp because of the night rain
Twisting branches are occupied by the birds
Slowly awakening through the morning mist
Sounds of water share the sounds of whistles
Taken apart from the rituals of the daylight
Eyes searching carefully for the first numbers
Flying sheets are taken down hard by the hands
Boiled water flows into the cups of black gold
Bags are made ready for the afternoon to arrive
Last kisses are shared as the doors are open
The morning has started with nature calling
Calling all the people who need to be there
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P. Heemstra
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