Quiet

Sometimes,
In the quiet hours of the morning
when the world is still asleep in their beds,
and the birds have not yet begun their songs,
and the dew is still forming on fresh green grass,
and the stars are still visible against the sky,
and curtains are drawn to block out the light that has not yet come,
and bed sheets are tangled between tired legs,
and the first cup of coffee has not yet been poured,
I go outside and pretend
That I am alone in this world.
I learn a lot about myself that way.

-Seb