Pulling up the morning

I see

shadows of trees fall tall as
three and a bit fields, dawn-lit
mismatched greige patches
soft-edged with fuzzy-felt braid.

I see

bulging, expectant cows, line up
form a patient queue as long as
Elm Lane - awaiting sweet relief
this fresh morning, deliverance

I am nostalgic

for restoration

for realignment

for order