Eos, May 20


20 May, Valla

I am standing above the world, waiting for the visitor.

Eos has reluctantly done her duty, a red streak retarded

by rucks of dark rain. I’m willing the ocean to rush me,

and it’s working. The horizon has become a concert hall,

I invite the surging vibrations to infiltrate, decibels to ring

my neurons. I stretch, shoulders back, muscles tighten

then relax, easing into tai chi swings and breath control.

One day the day will come when I will say, Please

– not knowing who I’m talking to – let me have one more dawn,

or the day will come when I will say, please, no more dawns,

and I might hear a reply, or I might not.

The day cracks open, the yolk is spreading             again

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