Frosted sunrise,
painted red,
and earth covered,
in white.

Five in the morning,
a yawn, a stretch,
a small movement
that signals a new day.

The cold floor
silently caressed by
the once warm toes,
frozen.

Walking softly
out to the porch,
the winter cool breeze hits
and sends a shiver though your spine.

Isolated from the barren land,
the sunrise creeps up
and its rays heat
the ice cold skin.

Sit and be content,
admire the morning glory
and witness the strength
that its warmth brings.

So peaceful, so right,
as though nothing could or would
go wrong.

It's the perfect shade of red.