Morning has Broken

Pale clouds stretch, trying to dominate the sky they
pull themselves until they are almost insubstantial.
Darker relatives are nudged away retreating
to the horizon, where they
circle like opportunistic sharks.
The wind has yet to stir
so the litter drifts from bins
bursting like old stuffed toys,
to settle and sleep in the gutter.
The sunlight peers out warily like
a shy child, causing puddles
of light to glisten on the pavement.
Early commuters saunter softly
to bus stops, slowly singing along
to iPod shuffles.
They stop to bask in the unexpected sunshine,
like lizards charging their batteries they pause,
work can wait awhile.
Some people say morning has broken,
however I think it’s working just fine.