daylight

I wake into day
instead of the India ink
that precedes first light
overslept
missed dark’s quiet
missed the first breath
of light dusting the sky
it’s not even seven
the day’s in full swing
where is my quiet?
that still point before
the world awakens
the dark well
waiting for me
to sink down
drench in
its luscious hush

the gift today
asks for welcome
doves cooing
texts dinging
flash of bird wing
and thieving squirrel
no dark well
instead sunshine
kisses the treetops
good morning!

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