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Three Line Lunch: First Awake Impressions

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 220

First Awake Impressions

That air that can only be of late late night’s early early morning, charcoal gray,
Sliding through our sliding glass door just cracked to our balcony: moist, tasting
Of water vapor, and carrying the sparse chirps and high calls of the earliest eeriest birds.