Some Mornings

I wake each morning to

release the excess of

being alive

Jump around

punch the sky

sweat my bones

until empty


Some mornings, like this

when the air feels so much

cleaner than me

I want to remain empty

vulnerable to the elements

free of the weight of

my body


Some mornings

there is nothing to do but walk

I step into the cold

legs bare

accepting the pin pricks

of sudden fall

I walk until a lady tells me

I should find some pants

I think

I dont know how

to cover myself up

to shut myself off from

the elements



I think

shes crazy


It occurs to me

Ive walked as far

as I already had

and I wonder why

I should have to do it


— A.O. Gerber

A.O. is a writer, musician and composer from Southern Oregon currently moonlighting as a Vermonter. You can follow her work and listen to her music here.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s