©Dawning
Mimi Wolske
March 2015
All Rights Reserved
The first sure thing
in the morning,
the first thing one
open, blurry eye
manages to bring into
focus,
is the recognizable
glistening of his hair.
Filtered sun lifts me
in his warm shirt;
cool wood creaks as
if laughing
when my feet touch
the floor;
a congress of
chirping voices
chatter outside the open
windows;
the pulse of the morning
gives birth to the
beat of a new tattoo.
I could live
endlessly
here on the lake with
him
and feel we belong
here together.
Sunrise stretches
dawn's light;
it caresses us as we
rise;
our love's and life's
motions
are fresh, given and
received,
repeated as the day
ages.
