For long nights
and calm, slow to form
mornings.

For fog-filled evenings
and boredom of dim, slow
to come to full light days.

For weird confusions
and slow to be confirmed
realities, slow to become concrete.

For awakening in night
with no chance of knowing time
beyond slow waiting for a chance to see.

For rising in full daylight or before
full daylight comes, slow realization
that it’s too early or too late to get up.

For thankfulness, for gratitude
after fear, after terror; for grinding up
slowly into a day like all others.

For plodding — one foot before
another — then sitting heavily down with
a cup of coffee; planning, slowly,

a hard day to come.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
onward,
T