Long before the working world
Has yawned and stretched and held a cup.
The artisans of retail food
If not awake are waking up.
To leave the house while still so dark
Is not a pleasant thing to do.
Time for sunrise later on
The morning moon is still in view.
Snuggled deep within the covers
"Normal" folx will never know
The freedom of the blinking stop lights
And the warmth of Alba Luna's glow