We protest dawns by fiat
clocks which shriek and then
are echoed all day by bitchery,
fretfulness, sneers.
And welcome dawns which slowly
idle out of long dark nights,
restless, wakeful, damp with red wine
and colorless tears.
Not torn from our shadow life
(recognizing hyperbole)
yet in relief we exclaim:
“Ah, idyllic, gently welcome day.”
