paigerothfus

I'm friends with 3 AM again. 3rd shift: my secret bliss 7 o'clock has never come so quickly. I don't want it to end. One word, one smile, then I'm Out the door, a cloaked figure in the predawn. One cup of coffee + milk + sugar and I'm fueled for the day. Scrape the frost off my windshield, Throw my bag in the back. Rev up the engine. Nothing can stop me. I'm high on morning poem power The reward of a hard nights work. I cruise along the dark street, Turn on the radio full blast, No defrost, no heat, no such luxury window down, trembling from cold, alone, yet perfectly content in my own company. I face the sun and its morning light as it