Morning Run
I run in the morning mist,
as the avian symphony
saturates the dawn.
The liquid warbling of a song sparrow
streams into my ear.
I imagine capturing
those tremulous notes
between cupped hands
and raising them to my lips,
tipping gently
and pouring,
letting each golden drop
slip down my thirsty throat
feeling the effervescence spread
as my heart sprouts wings
and my feet
fly.
Nix the comfort zone 
Molly, I’m thrilled to be reading your words again.
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Thanks, Sue! 🙂 It feels thrilling to be writing a bit again!
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That is one fine and beautiful poem, Molly. ;o)
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Thanks, Mike!
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