In the morning, I get up early and go out
while I can still hear the grass and earth crunching
into the world where I can find my thoughts.

All the paths lead to the look out on the peak,
and I head there in a meandering sort of way.
In the morning, I get up early and go out

to listen to a coyote who woke up alone and is calling
now for her friends. It’s funny that I’ve gone
into the world where I can find my thoughts

only to find her thoughts, and I’m pining for her,
with her, until she stops suddenly, and I miss her.
In the morning, I get up early and go out

before even the garbage man has started his route.
He’s drining coffee now, about to go out by himself
into the world. Where I can find my thoughts

I stop for a moment. They’re not profound, or wise, or even
interesting, but they’re alone, completely alone.
In the morning, I get up early and go out
Into the world where I can find my thoughts.

About the poet: John Brantingham has published nearly a hundred poems in magazines in the United States and England , including The Journal, Tears in the Fence, Pearl Magazine , and The Chiron Review . Garrison Keillor recently read one of his poems on The Writer’s Almanac . He was nominated for a Pushcart prize for one of the poems in his chapbook, Putting in a Window , published by Finishing Line Press.