Barre, Massachusetts

In the uncertain hour

just before dawn

I walk, counting steps

(one, two, three

One, two three, four…)

The air is cold and clear

scattered stars

linger in the ink-blue sky

Only the palest premonition at the field’s edge

there

behind those trees

(one, two, three…)

By such imperceptibly gradual

degrees

it lightens the sky

I can’t see

precisely at what point

night turns to day

(four, five, six, seven…)

I only know:

when I start to walk it’s dark

and when I end

it’s light.

December 1984

∞

From the Summer 1987 issue of Inquiring Mind (Vol. 4, No. 1)

Text © 1987–2022 by Ella Mental