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 
Intrigued thinking of “she” as self-knowledge … and of dawn trickling in regardless of knowledge, regardless of where one stands on life’s upslope.
LikeLiked by 1 person
So far dawn has always managed to trickle in…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Is this the course of knowledge?
LikeLiked by 1 person
It seems to be for me. Bits and pieces filter in, and sometimes I’m able to assemble them into something that makes sense. Sometimes.
LikeLiked by 1 person