Morning Perceptions

Morning Perceptions

To awaken on the morning of the journey
cross out the front lawn
to the pass.

It was a crisp blue Spring morning in Atlanta
the sky was a rich cobalt color
the skyline
seemed melancholy and sparse.

Morning perceptions
of the mother of the hill.

The hot dog skate land pizza pie with cheese
and all the wide-eyed people
in the park.

We sat on the concrete slabs
of an abandoned highway
overlooking the sewage dunes.

There was a balmy wind
cutting from the South.

The horns were instantaneous and gone
gone as quickly
merged in with the other city sounds.

An impossible group of cars roared by
they left me disturbed.

So let them all just vanish in the night
take their bright showmanship
and egg rolls, too.

Break it up soon and go on home
the policeman told us
there would be no more jazz to hear there
that morning.

-Will Dockery (1981)