there to here

quiet dawn, few
tires on the road
sleepy people knuckle
eyes, stretch and stand—
here we are again,
always a surprise

perhaps we start with
gratefulness or prayer
perhaps the spice
of coffee or black tea
—some familiar rite
to shake us back to here

the shift
from there to here
unique for each of us,
but shift it is—
there, another universe
here, an unhinged world
yet full to brim with
small, good things

2023 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.