Morning has Broken
you came to me, smudgy
as though through a window fogged
up with my breath. then the glass
disappeared, and i could feel
you like translucent light of
autumn afternoons gold-tipped, and
i smiled—brighter than i could
before. there was something more
than air between us, a thickness
that fell like snow, stacking
up until we were stranded in
the drifts. laughter and chirping
words drifted slow and light as
october leaves, unfurling
into a patchwork of summers
gone by. in the someday
we strolled through, i could
feel a kiss glowing
hazy red as an ember
for me (i read it in your face, felt
the warmth in the negative
space of our silhouettes).
september cold passed
from numb to burning; but
when i woke,
the pale morning did not
feel like you.