A Hot One

A Hot One

There’s a chill on the morning,
Inexplicable calm and quiet,
Morning bright, yet streetlight burning,
That time between bustling cars,
Before the joggers,
Before the paper hits the porch,
I love this time of day,
A gaggle of geese go honking overhead,
With determination and vigor,
To parts unknown,
They make their way now,
They know,
It’s gonna to be a hot one.

Peter Lowell Paulson
July 28, 2012