morning

Gold & gold & gold & gold
like the fire of the trees in fall,
the bril­liance of the morn­ing sun
claim­ing the lake waters
be­fore the world speaks
Like the warmth of fire­place flames
wel­com­ing me like family
A dance of light
rem­i­nis­cent of a night prior
as spir­its celebrated
un­leashed together
the glad­ness of moments
 
Gold & gold & gold & gold
Like the hands
that stitched a soft blanket
cov­er­ing me
in years of knowing
The cir­cle of time forthcoming
tells me an uplifting
is just around the bend.
At rest is the joy
that ri­ots the new day
The qui­et is gold
the joy golden.
A full day will ride in
be­tween my breaths
and laughter
beat­ing away wast­ed time.
 
Gold & gold & gold & gold
I see it
It falls on me
when I let it.
So sim­ple in the daybreak
be­fore a sin­gle bird sings,
swelling then
into full chorus.

 

—lisa tan­er

Flom­mist Lisa Tan­er finds com­fort in the writ­ten word, her works may be found in the pub­li­ca­tion CAW – Po­et­ry by a Mur­der of Writ­ers. Copy­right © 2026 Lisa Tan­er. Foto by mehallo.

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