Traffic yawns in streams outside.
Light anticipation. Owl calls
like cotton wool balls
roll down hills in my head.
Legs twitch, lightbulbs twink,
you can hear the world waking.
Kettle train boils past, distant
cars roar like waves breaking.
Semi-quavering bird notes
fluctuate like water levels
in a fountain. Toilets swallow
and a door slaps shut, like
vinyl tiles dropped on
wet paving stones.
The house ripples like an intestine,
pushing people out to watercolour
paper sky soaked and washed
cerulean.