Monday, February 8, 2021

13,409. STEADFAST IN THE MORNING

STEADFAST IN THE MORNING
Giles Goat Boy, was it? John Barth
or John Fowles? Long enough now
to be forgotten. I awake and find
myself staring out : Morning makes
a ridicule of the heavily-labored
new snow, as the bright sunlight
glints off the world. My eyes try
responding, but they cannot shut.
-
All these morning shadows now 
are leaning to the left; harshly. Trees 
and bushes, barns and cars. Everything.
By five o'clock, they lean in the other
direction, and I watch that too.
-
Life is a rhythm within a noise, a rumble
wrapped in silence, a waterfall's roar in
the muted hands of daylight's wrapping.

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