At 6 a.m., a film of cold grease has formed over my untouched coffee.
I add three words
revise them then kill the line ...
paper-white dawn
FYI: This is could be read as a prequel to my take below:
to Richard Bach who claims, "A professional writer is an amateur who didn’t quit."
coffee ring on ring ...
I type five lines, five lines
then delete all
start again as robins sing
sing up the morning sun
