Something about sunrise.

The morning brought with it a rolling dense fog and grey light

that was half a product of adjusting eyes

and half a sign that the sun was just on the other side of the mountain.

At this time every year the fog would roll into the valley

and stop the world from experiencing

the first cracks of light. It gave the sun

time to warm up the world before it

lifted it out and into the day.


Dawn rolled into town at the same time every morning

It would come in and kick the fog out

Lucky were the eyes of those that lived there

They could watch while their vision cleared

The sun’s sharp glare wasn’t so terrible then


If you ever found yourself walking through downtown at sun rise you might have seen what I’m talking about. It might be cold and the shadows in alleys might clump together like ice but with each passing moment you might feel them lift. Warmth might seep into your clothes but the solid black shadows will always fade and reveal more detail.  Sitting at the base of a building you could watch the sun turn a black mass golden.



A dark basement with blinds on its only window won’t ever know the difference,

Though it may know that light changes.


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