Some Meandering W.I.P.

I was up before daybreak
now there's coral in the sky
that can be seen through
these still skeletal arms and
fingers of trees bronzing
upward into the blue
while out of the blue comes
a streak across the airspace
heading west toward Philly
International.

I'm at the place where thoughts
grow ragged en route to the written
page, that fearsome blank space
that begs for even the simplist
font.

So many times they've flown ahead,
urgent as road rage and drive-by's
- impossible to be caught within this
daily routine.