Morning begins again.

The rooster pattern on the sheer linen curtains

Is now distinct from the darkness.

Dawn lingers in a gray twilight.

The crackle of thunder and mild rain grumbling,

The storm receding back into the distance,

Without lightning,

Giving way to the drippling,

And the morning birds' chirping,

And an owl's hoot every other minute.

The church bell yonder strikes once:

Half past ten.