Hours Before Dawn
I often wake in the wee hours, and sometimes in my sleepy fog I think it's already morning.Implacable thoughts Like a slow dripping leak Like the drone of an alarm just out of reach Too persistent to let me sleep Too soon, I think morning has come, and rise The steady trill of rumination follows me through a mirrorless house to a set of drapes Taking a breath, I throw them aside bracing for too much light But what greets me is stellar beauty An expanse of dark broken by moon broken by star after star Broken by...