Portland Haiku

the cold, dark mornings,
wait for me outside each day.
embracing my life.

early, i am pushed,
to wake up before the sun.
slowly, i become morning.

a calm lulls my house.
a gentle breeze plays outside.
wind chimes are singing.

a wish to slow down,
to stop and relax a while.
sleep is my option.

onward! forward! ho!
here we go! always pressing on.
can it be worth it?

a drink and to bed.
i go dragging my two feet,
scuffling along.

to think about sleep.
not as good as the real thing.
pretty obvious.

an unsorted day.
was not really here or there.
just between, waiting.

early morning time,
is my time now. quiet time,
to think and ponder.

waking up to night,
only to work through the day.
how did this happen?