daybreak. almost. still awake, gnarling at one task after another, snarling at each word written, each letter scribed. it was almost daybreak and yet he was still wide awake, completing the remaining minutes before it was technically daytime.

the night curtains closed,
a yellow speckle peeks --

leaks -- a rooster crows

as he was to take a long break, he felt the urge and the motivation to complete what can be completed at little time left before he leaves for another task in the morning. and time would sweep away like fallen leaves after a long forceful wind. he had to finish what could be finished before he became incommunicado for almost four days while spinning the hours away in a laid-back mountain village - walking, drinking tea, marveling at the panoramas, and of course, ruminating the days on thinking and planning his life.

the fan gently hums
pattern after pattern

of its rhythmic snores.

he needed to wake up from his dreaming - of her. the possibilities were slim. the engagements would be rare. he had to see sense in his lunacy - in his ardor longing to the only detail of knowing her and hearing her speak her name. and he was going away to set his mandates straight and real - to come home assured and no longer listless.

the sun - its golden
carpet crisply flooding
the darkness - rises.

hoping, he finally set out to fill the void.

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