Pre-dawn Dancing

There’s something magical about 4 am.

The birds twittering in the dark like little

taps of a blind man’s cane keep me

on the path to my destination.

The bright colors on the TV screen

give me a mystic sunshine in 7

chromatic colors!

Gudetama hangs out with me

and my industrious pen on that

midnight paper grind.

What fun it is to make words

like rowdy children make noise,

both of our hands messy with some

color and wax, disturbing porcelain

on all four walls!

And yet, the oncoming day doesn’t frighten me.

I do my time, my diurnal sentence is

properly bought and paid for in soap suds

and sneakered footsteps.

But come nightfall, I pay my toll

with candlelight and enter

through the opening arms of the

nocturnal city lights.