Twenty minutes to 5 am. The news
announces snowfall totals, tells of sour pranks
pulled by sinister clowns in high places,
and lets me know who won big at the Grammys.

Caffeine shakes the drowse from my clogged wits.
I head back to my room to duck the headlines.
I perch on the mattress-edge and think of you
and write this poem just to say: Good morning!