Some Mornings

by Justine C. Tajonera

Some mornings
are beautiful, suffused in
cool light,
white window curtains
rustling with wind
and the promise
of a brand new day.

Some mornings
are ugly, unbearably
bright and hot or
melancholy and
steel-gray cold,
killing any comfort
saved over
the night.

Does it matter
which one
I wake up to?

Each morning
I am born,
pulled out
from the womb
of dreaming,
facing another
series of conscious
hours,
choosing, each
time,
the quality
of the
light.

(March 23, 2010)
Image from http://www.flickr.com/photos/emdot/3035769570/