Comforts

In the early morning hours,

shortly after dressing, I’m outside.

Greeted by the stars,

and sometimes clouds, illuminated by the moon.

The comforts of running water, coffee, and a warm bathroom

a stroll away.

I’m pleased with the trade—

the proximity of small pleasures for the

awe of the still dark morning sky.

Even when below freezing.

Perhaps especially when below freezing.

The cold air,

a reminder of this form,

arising of itself,

along with the stars,

in the freshness of

just this.