the color of morning
filtered by three panes
the sun fills the black of
my early narrow eyes, 7am
the dirty sliding door shows
dog prints of the day
multiplied
the empty glass in my hand
held up to the light, smudged faint
in translucent coffee brown
to fill the glass
to borrow heat from the glow-orange
of my fingers to the day
only to return in
the color of morning 
filtered by three panes