Light

It’s that time of dawn we hardly see
When the air is as clean as the light
And the cool morning hangs in my lungs

And you, with your golden hair, are sleeping
Chest rising and falling
Telling your unconscious sweet stories

I am here
In a sea of covers
Or watching you drive
Or guarding your hospital bed.

It is this moment,
Every moment, really,
That is still
And private
Where I look at you
Actually look at you

Familiar contours that I know so well
The dawn rests on your forehead and slides down the line of your nose,
Kisses your low cheeks and holds close hollow of your smooth jaw

As I see you breathing so close to me
Impossibility surges again like a wall
And whispers what I know is true

It’s moments like these that I envy the light.

View lah's Full Portfolio
Beavis's picture

Good poem!

I look forward to reading more of your work.