Through a Basement Window at Dawn
From the tree across the lawn
the woven chaos
of the birds blessing this new piece of day
Shifting the night away.
Softly finger rays feel their way
over the surface of wet ground
Gray separates into muted colors.
The page becomes words.
Shadows recede into holes and cracks,
or stretch out on the ground,
lazy patches that drowse and shrink
as the light climbs.
Plants begin to breathe in.
pressing their backs against the thick glass.
These thoughts came to me on this drizzling, dripping, gray dawn. This afternoon the clouds have broken into white islands in the blue, and three wild bunnies chase each other in and out of the still dripping trees and across the soggy lawn. It is really spring. The children in my class played in the large puddle in the middle of our sad little yard. No one got cold, just soaked from head to toe. Water is good for kids as long as there is no danger of hypothermia. There were a few tears, but a lot more smiles.