A poem - When it's early
When it’s early, the sun is soft the grass is dewy
Birds are chirping, tweeting
nature’s chatter I’m secretly listening
candy to my ears but they don’t know this new taste
The air feels cold, yet fresh
the day is still young
I observe its youthfulness
The world is quiet
perhaps they are still in slumber,
too late to see the break of day.
Rays of sun come into my vision
they nudge me and say, “It’s summer.”
The only glare I see
are the soft, light beams
floating in the air
along the gentle white puffs
I breathe in deep and let go
the dawn is no place of woe
When it’s early,
I’ll always be happy.
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After publishing 10 minutes on the clock, I decided to post this poem - something I've wanted to write for a long time. I thought of writing this poem one time when I was walking to school on a summer morning. I thought of the first two lines, and it just started clicking for me.
A few days later, I noticed that while I was walking past a group of trees beside a specific part of the road, I would always hear birds chirping. The noises were all very different, perhaps from various kinds of birds, but I liked the sounds all the same. It felt like a conversation I didn't understand, but eavesdropped in. That's how I thought of the second stanza in this poem.
The rest of the poem is pretty straightforward, so I don't think there are too many opportunities for analyzing - besides the second stanza.
What are some unique things that you've experienced while on a walk? Share your thoughts in the comments below, and stay tuned for more posts!
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