Light as I Get up on the First Day of Spring
The light is bright
as I slip from under the covers
yet the house groans and creaks
and the ghost of winter lurks
within the walls.
When I was a child
a teacher said
first there was light
but I remember
the night I danced
under the cover of darkness.
When I go downstairs
the sun shining through the window
shows clutter, life’s imperfection
as I slip from the embrace
of last night’s dreams
of someone I loved
but that was long ago.
I must walk through the clutter
to step outside and feel a warm breeze
and let the day begin for me.
Branches of bare limbs dance
in a warm breeze
as they wait to bloom.
New life, a soothsayer says.
A poetic leap, I say,
as I grasp the wheel
and drive toward the sun.
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