Broken Morning

Thorin N. Tatge

To “Morning has Broken” by Eleanor Farjeon

Morning has broken, call the repairman

Blackbird has spoken with him on the phone.

Cracks in the sunrise, cracks in the troposphere

Cracks in the heavens; everything’s blown.

See the rain rising; why is it rising?

Witness the dewfall, sticky and pink

Praise for the beauty of ten-sided snowflakes

Each has a copy somewhere, I think.

Dark is the sunrise, bright is the nightfall

See the full moon eclipsing the sun

Praise with elation, praise our insurance

Fix it so we can get some work done.

Morning has broken unlike the first morning

We have awoken to a terrible sight:

Bits from the morning of Theta Centauri

Are jumbled overtly and that isn’t right.

Bits of the sky are falling like flapjacks

One side is mirrored, the other sky blue.

They shatter like glass but taste good with syrup

Leaving just blackness with stars showing through.

Clouds on the ground, electric pink lightning

Fish flying backwards, hail made of clay,

Jagged horizons, dancing aurorae

Looks like we’re in for one hell of a day.