No Night’s Tale
A pale green scene
at sunrise, just before enlightenment.
The woods around the deck were rife
with magic. Cardinals knelt
on tuffets at the feeder
on the post beside the shed.
The woodpeckers percussed
with verve. The infant morn rubbed sleep
out of its eyes and pursed its ears.
The world was two parts dead.
We hadn’t lit a fire
In a period of months.
Our silence in the moment
warmed its hands and cocked its head.
We toggled between
giddiness and dawn’s
suspended breath.
The chill of waiting
shivered more,
and hovered overhead.
And in our heads we danced
to tunes played next to flowerbeds.