Somehow Dawn
I don’t know what to say. Or how.
Feeling that I am on the upslope,
not close. Not wrong. I want
to be that hollowed space
in the hackberry’s trunk,
the calm of darkened light.
And more. Some honey, dripped
from the spoon. A house finch,
fluttering. I will whittle my losses,
carve out needs. She will tell me
the history of our days. She will
smile, engrave her initials on my
chest. Somehow, the birds still
sing. Somehow, dawn trickles in.
“Somehow Dawn” was first published in August 2019 at Vox Populi. I am grateful to Michael Simms for his support, and am thrilled to be a regular contributor to this lively publication.
O at the Edges 
I really like this. To me, the character seems in between moments, a time of gathering themselves, and gazing at the world for indications on how to move on.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you, Dave. I believe it is indeed a poem reflecting someone on the cusp of something. What to do, what to do…
LikeLiked by 3 people
This is beautiful.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thanks very much, Tre! Decisions seem to be easier lately. 🙂
LikeLiked by 2 people
You’re most welcome. I hear you.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Pingback: Somehow Dawn — O at the Edges – AreMyFeetOffTheGround
Against all odds, it’s dawn.
Thanks for the beautiful poem.
Hope rekindled.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you. Recent dawns seem to be sweeter…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Breathtaking!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks very much, Linda.
LikeLike