I see the morning fog and know I breathe it,

I hear the nesting parakeet and know I’ve seen it,

After the dew runs down the warmth of my hand,

When the black gate reminds me of the taste of metal,

I remember,

that I am morning

I see the orange tinge of city night, knowing darkness

While people fan themselves, the heat of the night air

When I smell the yearning in the cities cauldron

My soul the fish under the unbroken surface

never a tranquil moment

I know,

I am not merely human