III. In the cold, the cold December air early morning, on my way to work I ride my bicycle through the streets while homes and trees in 3D loom about me, changing perspectives the dawn like a blessed memory arises like a mother’s love, a lover’s distant wishes and for a minute fills the sky. II. Sunlight, the first morning light through the upper window descends the stair-well into the cold kitchen, suddenly warm! I. Orange, orange light below blue clouds to the east above the sun as yet unrisen— riding the circle of your heart peeking through sleep-filled eyes begins to smile.