The Crack of Dawn - Jan 12 2024

 

The Crack of Dawn

Jan 12 2024

How odd, for a night owl like me

to awaken this early.

The sun, where I've never seen it before.

The unaccustomed quiet.

The calm

that made it feel

like all the time in the world.

The smell of coffee.

News I rather not know.

And the dogs, a little confused,

but, dog-like

just as eager to go.

They talk about the crack of dawn.

But it isn't that at all;

not a lightning bolt

but a candelabra,

lit one candle at a time.

The black sky

softens imperceptibly,

through indigo, cobalt

deep navy blue,

then baby

sapphire

robin's egg.

A cold light, at first;

bloodless

and flattening the world.

Morning mist burns off

shadows shorten

wind stirs.

There's a paradoxical chill

before it warms.

And birdsong

   —   which began hours before

with just a glimmer of light   —

comes through the open window.

And then, in earnest, the day starts;

phone alarms

traffic sounds

urgent texts.

So time wasn't trackless, after all.

The drift

silence

space

gone just like that.