I woke up early but not sure why.
The sun yet risen, no stars in the sky.
This shortened day will too soon pass.
Memories linger of lush green grass.
The water boils and cats get fed.
Should I persist or go back to bed?
Bed is warm, my kitchen’s cold,
New England winters’ getting old.
My pad awaits and pencils ready.
Ideas are shaky but hands steady.
Now is now but soon to be then.
If not today perhaps not again.
First a letter, then words will follow.
Most are solid, some ring hollow.
But any start’s better than none.
Good or bad, at least it’s done.