It’s December now
My birthday soon
It doesn’t feel at all
like birthday time

What I can feel
Is cold, cold air
And warm sunshine
And a kind of lethargy
Of the body
Of the heart

I want to lie all day
In my soft bed
And watch sunbeams
As they dance
Along my hardwood floor

Or close my eyes
And feel the sun
On my face
And pretend
It is the warmth
I find in your eyes


Morning Sun in the French Quarter