Jarred from sleep, what time could it be?
The bunks are still filled, go back to sleep.
License to count, a few more sheep.
Did I dream, or was that merely, an extended blink?
I didn’t have any time to dream,
My eyes reopen, beds vacant, and colleagues unseen.
Them the early birds, always first on the scene,
Eating my worm, and leaving me not a thing.
Keep my worm, I can still make it to breakfast,
It ends in 10 minutes, I can make it if I run fast.
But first I have to get down from this wooden mast,
The top bunk blues, I always get to pick last.
At the breakfast table I settle down and reassess.
My swollen eyes feel like an abscess.
Give me intravenous coffee, its liquid rest.
Three steaming cups later, I’m close to my best.
But just last week it only took two,
It’s an arms race between the fatigue and you.
The good ol’ days of a full night’s rest are through,
If sleep were a currency, I’d be beyond destitute.
But coffee we have, so coffee I’ll do,
No matter how many cups, I have to consume.
It helps me get data, and lead my platoon,
The science doesn’t sleep, so why should you?
More human now than gargoyle, I’m out of my cave,
And begin to notice the first sounds of the day.
Cacophonies and choruses of the widest array,
Creatures from a novel, what is this place?
Things you could only imagine at best,
Organized in clean coats, this colorful mess,
Birds sing opera as they zip overhead,
Already hours into their metabolic quest.
You’re more alert now to these feathered friends peeving,
Once unrecognizably tired, you drowsiness is leaving,
A price must be paid for anything worth seeing.
The morning hours are the golden hours, optimistic and redeeming.
Fresh fruit is surrendered in plain view,
Melons of neon, electric hue,
These curious winged assailants, red, green, and blue,
Besiege what we offer, and voraciously chew.
The sun is higher now, more hot and more certain.
Scientists sit, reticent to draw the curtain,
Theres a full day of field work out there just lurking,
Waiting for you to come along and start working.
We long to hold on to this feeling all day,
The limbo in between the work and the play,
But I better get out there before my buzz goes away,
And leaves me more grumpy than the work force on Monday.
Time to suit up. Put the gear in the truck.
Start from the bottom to get polainas laced up.
In your hurry don’t let the zipper get stuck,
Did I wear this outfit yesterday? Ah, who gives a….
Now for the gear. Grab whatever is near.
Binoculars, camera, and something to steer,
Your way through the forest like a compass or mirror,
If your prone to get lost then consider a peer.
Sign out on the sheet so the jefas don’t fear,
That you’re lost in the jungle without a cohere-
-ent idea of how to stay clear,
Of Bushmaster venom there is not a cure.
All set now, ready for data collection,
Don’t forget to grab a lunch from the reception,
Heed my warning and learn from my lesson,
The peanut butter jelly sandwich is nothing impressive.
Now finally on the trail, marching along,
Wondering why to get out here it took me so long,
Time spent indoors is inherently wrong,
Compared to the classroom, this place is the BOMB!
I hop and I tromp and I climb and I swing,
I duck and I dodge and I yell and I sing.
Conquering verbs I’m an action figurine,
Going full speed until the lunch bell rings.