What kind of morning would it be without a 'good' attached?
It creeps, it advances in splendor across a dull horizon.
It breathes.
If you could be part of this timed, immortal event,
what would you choose?
The dark before dawn, or the infant sun, silent?
You are part of the 'good' in morning,
as you are at night.
Good morning, good night.
All the same.
Or would you have an interim?