I am
Most decidedly
Not
A morning person

My preferred time
Of rising
Would be
The crack of noon

For long years
Of school
Motherhood
Career
I learned mornings

I admit to loving
The quiet stillness
Ringing with bird calls
The soft light
Requiring no sunglasses
The freshness
Revealing new times

Still
Schooling finished
Children grown
Retired
I now often
Forget mornings

I return to my native love
The cool dark 
Of deep night
The luxury of being awake
While all around me sleep
The wide freedom
Of aloneness
When even the birds
Are quiet