Sky-Fire Beard

Morning rose with a sunrise beard,
sky-fire yellow
on a blue-gray face,
chasing off the residue
of a half-moon night.

A coyote strutted
through the steam of my coffee,
disappearing between spindly legs
of a safe place
to sleep the day away.

The coffee grew cold, and
work crept closer on the clock.
I showered and dressed, but
decided not to shave.