I woke up a little earlier than usual yesterday. I glanced at the clock, and it read:
I usually like to be out of bed between 5 and 6 AM, but waking up before my alarm at 5 is unusual. It has happened before, though.
I fumbled in the dark while still lying in bed and flicked on my desk lamp. I grabbed a piece of loose-leaf paper from the stack I keep handy on my desk, and a pen from my aluminum can/pen holder labeled Allen's Sunshine Cut Italian Green Beans.
Still lying in bed, I scribbled out a poem. I was finished by 5:00.
Immediately thereafter, I got out of bed and tied about 800 knots on my castnet.
After my fingers were warn raw by the monofilament fishing line, I made a pot of grits and read the newspaper.
All before nearly everybody else my age even thought about getting out of bed.
The morning is the best time of the day. I don't know why so many people choose to miss it.
Poem posted next week!