And I have seen the sun rise
Five times in the past few weeks.
I was turning down sheets
As the birds began to sing.
The sky glowed in a wavering
Pulsation that precious few
Were also witnessing. And
Witnessing far away, unknown.
One whizzed by, so close
Almost plunging into my ear.
Others followed, but weary eyes
Were too heavy to confirm.
The sun lay heavy and warm
Along my spine as I tried
To deny its gaze, defiant
That I should try to forget it.
One landed, softer than
Noticeable. Light and lilting
Steps along my forearm,
Checking each tiny pore.
Unfolding wings and taking
Off, bored with being
On my level.
My window open, allowing
Stagnant air to ease through the
Holes, splitting apart and oozing
Through the screen where wings
Were once stuck.