Saturday, April 23, 2005

The Hour Before Dawn

In the hour before dawn, waking
Encountering the solidity,
The self sufficiency
Of the bureau, the chest,
The dining room table
I pause. I hear nothing
Not a eye blink; not a limb twitching

A nocturnal bird beyond the window
Eyes me. Silent shadows stalk me
A dream with an angel at its core
A ghost glides down the staircase
A spectre floats in the hall
Sucking blood, they feast
And then they multiply

I flick the switch
And snap the silver threads
Of the greying outlines
Of all my fading yesterdays
And then there is clarity
As the lamplight glows
Lighting my way to morning.


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