Mornings are beautiful, even the gray, rainy ones.
Saturday morning, I left to go to a little
swim meet, and stepped out into a cool day,
with the sun just beginning to nudge its way over
the tree line. It was still inky black
and a sliver of moon rested its bottom
on a wisp of passing cloud, just below the
remaining stars. I stood at the bus stop and marveled
at it all. If I didn't get up early to swim
I'd never have gotten to see this wonderful,
starry morning.
