Crickets clothe the dark singing their one
note songs. Raccoons return to lairs to sleep
off stolen suppers. Below the mountain trucks
whoosh through silent streets like wind over water.
Stirring starts in rumpled beds, bodies buried
in embrace now adrift on different shores
rise before the sun. A new day of anything
is possible seems promising.
Coffee drips in quiet kitchens, water runs
as alarm clocks decide who showers first.
Dogs are walked and fed, lunches packed
and sealed with penciled hearts on brown paper bags.
Cars are warming, white smoke
coloring the morning air as we climb
into reserved seats to make our way
to where we think we're headed.
Joan Page-Durante has been writing poetry since the age of 16 although the angst of adolescence has been replaced with a kind of seasoned cynical optimism and a whole lot of gratitude.
Thanks to Musepie Press for their commitment to the art of poetry.