Before dawn

I take the time-
though just this once
to-
wake up one morning
before dawn-
before the sun has even opened it's eyes
to let in light,
warm up the air-
while the air is still crisp
birds still sleep
so does the neighbour's cat-
the dog
and the old man who lives alone
I take that walk
I always said I would
while everyone slept
and saw-
what I thought I never would
dew on leaves
blades of grass standing tall-
proud
like that new statue just put up in the town's square
like the bridge I drive over every day to get
to work
which I hate
and there's not much I do hate
hate isn't really a word I use
dislike, perhaps
detest
yet I veer from the path
and I continue eyes open
to the lonely rubbish bins
lined up all in a row,
coloured lids-
mocking the bin still standing in the driveway
in a corner-
no recycling this week
no green waste
just pure hard rubbish-
landfill
oh how I'd love to fill someone's mouth like
land fill-
polluted with reason,
rather than not
like the lady with the curlers in her
hair that lives on the corner of the street and
shrieks at the children as they ride their
scooters,
or the man with the manicured lawn
that curses as passersby
accidentally walk on his lawn
so I take the time to walk on his lawn
stamp in places here and there-
my foot prints look as if made by shoes twice
the size of mine
I twist a little and then feel bad
when I see the once proud blades of grass
squished to a not so lush bed of green
I walk
I walk
I walk
and see through morning eyes
my world and think
it doesn't get much better than this
unless of course
I didn't have to drive over that bridge
to get to a place
I don't like
or hear that lady shriek at the kids
or hear that man curse