Bridge Lessons When you get up before the day does, you get in on things, like when the ocean, in a shiny nightgown, opens her door just a crack to let the sun in. And the heron check you out, surprised because he always gets here first. Then, of course, the trees-- who would've known ballet practice started at the crack of dawn, or that somewhere lined up behind the quiet, a million noises wait their turn. Whoever's catching the first flight out crosses the bridge, and if you knew how to speak Bridge, you'd have a secret. So you make a deal that tomorrow you'll get up early for Bridge lessons.
Ginger Murchison's Questions:
Some readers think I am talking about Bridge as a cardgame in the last stanza. Referencing the penultimate stanza, "if you knew how to speak Bridge" (as if it were a lanugage,) I'm really making a deal to get up and "learn the language" of morning....relate to morning, appreciate the early part of day....from one who is clearly surprised at all of this....
Are the last 2 lines a "drop off" to "a quick solution," the lanugage of which is "not really in keeping with the gracefulness of the rest of the poem"? If so, does anyone have any ideas for fixing that?