Routines

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Wisp of moon near
a veiled horizon
the early dark sky 
still deep in slumber
as I stand in the cool
silence of the hour
both palms to face 
before night's mirror
as bracing cold water
dissolves the last
trace of fluid dream
while a chilled stray
wind just before dawn 
slips under my door
routines line up by habit
the day begins once more.

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