Here. Here. Here.
You rise
dark miracle of air, water, earth
soft, servicing
tunnels of hunger that burrow
back through time
fleeing warfire, bindle-wrapped
package carefully portioned
protected, pocketed
passed hand to mouth for ages
becomes now, fuels the foot
that lifts to lead
into a next moment live
with ghosts and mothers
we meet again mornings
in this modern age of artisan obsession
I pull back your floured shroud
smile welcome before the sun is up
proud – proving – possible
Early Morning Poems 