By Joseph Hesch
Facing east, I feel the warm glow
of new day on my face,
like a good kind of embarrassment.
Trailing behind me, night has receded
to its western rest,
except for the me-shaped piece
I must have stepped on when I got up
this morning that is attached to my heels.
I can’t shake this lazy, laid-down
reminder that even in brightest times,
darkness is always just a step away.
If I followed that shadow, always
just behind that penumbral meridian,
could I hold off the coming of darkness?
No, I think I’ll face this day,
knowing that when night finally creeps back,
oozing over the eastern horizon, I’ll lay down,
attaching myself to the shadows,
reminding them that day and I
are only resting, and we’ll be
shining again come dawn.