A Lover on a Cold Body

I arose early and sat in the dark.  It was a cold dark morning which has made this writing more of a pounding as I have to force my fingers to bear down on the keys as if they were those on the old Royal typewriter my daddy owned.  But the difficulty of my old fingers sing when beholding the beauty of another night become day.  This is one of the great glories one can afford, to see the dark become light.  Not like turning on a light but the whole of the world, from horizon to horizon becoming light.  It is vague at first but then first colors are beheld and then “Morning has broken, like the first morning”  Yes it is inexpensive, supply is always in surplus for lack of demand, but watching a cold night become a warm morning is a bargain liken unto the warmth of a lover on a cold body seeping in to awaken one's soul.