Oh, goat’s morning is off to a too-early start.
The hen and chickens of sky relayed a silent buh-bye, but, then, fowl of kin fouled dawn with slumber-breaking harks.
Responsive to the unavoidable call, day’s journey prints ungual prose across paths of camions’ toes.
Trucks and treks and no flowers in sight in need of a stop and sniff, so goat will go at purposeful meaning by sand-angeling a sketch for a self-uplift. ; )