In the morning I roll over and open my eyes,
Spying daylight through the stripe of window
Permitted beneath the roller shade --
The sun peeks above blue mountains
On one side of this one-room-deep house.
The colors tell us what to do - reddish in the morning,
We take our warning and stay inside,
But on cloudless bright days we move and shake things up,
Whistle for dogs who run like
This is how it always is, no worries,
Nothing to do but dash bravely, stupidly
Between the splayed legs of ponies
Eating morning hay in the cold, snowy field.
In the evening, standing in front of the kitchen sink
On the other side of this one-room-deep house,
I pause in the dinner preparation
To delight in brilliant vermillion reds;
Or, with anxious eye, watch the storm clouds approach
After the sun has dropped behind the railroad tracks.