Good Morning

The Writer, Vernon Wade

Vernon Wade is a poet, author and freelancer. He has been published in The Gorge Literary Journal, Dualsport Rider Magazine, Hack’d Magazine, The Sidecarist, ROB Magazine and The Hood River News.

The world fills him with wonder. When he looks at the sky he is lifted into flights of fancy, when he stares at the earth he is drawn beneath its surface. He is delighted to find the macrocosm and the microcosm equally mesmerizing.

1/8/26 5:45 37F (2.7C) There is a light wind blowing a swirling, cold mist.

The moon, waning gibbous, and at least one star pierce the thin clouds overhead.

Both thermometers read 37F, but it feels colder than that and ice dots the horizontal surfaces.

It was a rough night. I had just about dropped off to sleep when Amy told me there was a ruckus in the henhouse. I got dressed , grabbed my pistol and a headlamp, and went to investigate.

When I opened the chicken coop door, I saw large grey rats running everywhere. It looked like a rifle gallery at the county fair. I shot six of them but at least as many escaped.

But that wasn’t the source of the commotion. Hank the rooster had missed taps and gotten locked outside by the automatic door.

Being careful to avoid his spurs I grabbed him by the ankles and tossed him into the coop before returning to my own warm bed.

After the excitement it took me awhile to get back to sleep.

At 3:30 Walter informed me he needed to go out by licking my elbow. Obediently, I got up to do his bidding, and again ten minutes later to let him back inside.

This morning Sheila Kitty demanded food before I could have my tea.

Good morning.