Some times are just magic. (Original draft)

When I woke this morning
the world was silver
all over,
all silver everywhere

growing with a glow
tarnished to near gray
a remembered whisper
still gleaming in the early light haze

a low but constant humming
something not quite shining
quiet as a scratch spreading
all silver everywhere

awoke on a couch
in a strange familiar house
rose through sleep murk
from gray to silver to white

a small cat knocked twice

the light, like my morning mind
silver, dull and slightly scratched
something mildly nagging
the silver remainders of dreams
silver all down the hallway
to the bathroom and back

and the cat lays playful on its back
quietly asks in a voice like tiny bells
silver chimes moving
in the breeze of human breath

but I continue on and down and back
time to fold blankets and dash
the light around me rising slowly
silver and rubbed clear, but

held close like a thought
arrived at in private
the eternal roadway

silver all over
like a chime
the sky, the clouds, the road
all dull shine

silence rides on light
my hands hang on the wheel
my thoughts slow and seeping

sleep driving and dreaming
side view mirrors shine silver
not even eight yet

into and out of a tunnel
the weather, oddly, no different

too light and soft
not gray so much
no sharp edge to this light
this morning that is starting

dropping into the valley
the black twin cragged mountains are
wreathed in silver fox and ermine
of the finest off-white

there's a certain lightness
to well-worn metal
illuminated and near-eternal

made of silver
this morning
made of silver