Every day, a photograph, a poem. I rarely see the sunrise– I’m more of a night person, and have never been a morning person, although I love the sunrise and the hours of light more in the day. But my body simply rotates on a different schedule, more than likely a schedule developed as a child.
My dad worked all day– from 8 to 5, and he made it to work on time most days, although he had three alarm clocks to slowly wake him up– each one farther away from his reaching arm. LOL.
Even my mom slept in– our breakfasts we made ourselves, usually. Cheerios, mostly. In winter when the weather was terribly cold– -30° F below zero with a -60° F wind chill factor — she’d make us cream of wheat to start the day.
The nights, though, those were late. Both my parents bowled in leagues and stayed up late on those nights. All nights they watched late night TV.
We had bedtimes, though my brother and I stayed away quietly, especially if the TV was on loud and we couldn’t fall asleep.
On weekdays, I’d stay up until midnight with homework. I was a slow reader, underliner, and note-taker. I worked for my good grades.
So…. sunrises were not usually on our daily schedule.
And so, a poem:
Glorious is our SunSheri Edwards
Shining on everyone