Waiting At the Steps of Dawn

Yesterday has slipped out into the night. I will probably find it one day shivering in the frozen hollows of the thin woods. I lay awake for a long time. The snow made soft padding sounds on my bedroom window. Eventually a dawn light settled down to rest, first under my hands where historic tales had gathered in the dark, then that light slid slowly inwards snaking into a bone between my neck and the floor of a scattered sky. I sensed sinkholes, yet felt no new awareness in them; The body needs time to adjust to its survival. One day or night some sunken parts will meet a ragged ghost out there where the trees have been cut down, the ground cleared for something new ~ out there upon a time yet to occur. This day I am outstretched under dawns surgical knife where a probing light seeks out pockets of emptiness and a white falling sky cleans house.