Winter morning rise,
and already an avalanche of life
collapses into my lungs and settles within the folds
of my feet; they are numb, from sleep, from what waits—
Face the day.
It’s time. The bills have arrived with the crows,
black and cawing, demanding ones goes,
shaves up, wraps tie around heart, and zips up faith.
Outside the air is colder than hell,
but the sun is magnanimous with grace.
I feel its gold drapery along my face,
see the amber of starlit blood
through the folded layers of my eyes…
It’s a blue and demanding sky,
but with the sun,
one has more than enough warmth to give.
Take a step. Let’s begin.
