I saw the black begin to brighten
and fluorescent letters dim
while waking up with the Thunderbird
and the whir of a blustery hymn.

I saw nimbus start to whiten
and my coffee crest the rim.

I heard palms and mossy oak
rustle in a southern breeze
as I rambled from the Thunderbird
to watch rivers meet the seas.

I heard the olive bullfrog croak
and the clatter of hotel keys.

I felt waves of humid air
fall across my arms and face
when I glanced back to the Thunderbird
and it's aura of nostalgic grace.

I felt the clasp of a summer glare
as I turned to the riverside marketplace.



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