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                               Still poem stories
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misty_eagle
misty_eagle Community member
Autoplay OFF   •   5 months ago
A poem about the elusive joy of new beginnings

Still

willing the sky to lighten

willing the sky to lighten from my pillow at 6am

colourless

even pale

but the world is dark.

hours pass like minutes lying there outside of time

gazing

gazing not thinking

then

without warning

there is blue.

where moments before

there had been white,

there had been white, black,

there had been white, black, nothing

there is unmistakably

blue.

silence.

then a little birdsong

then a little birdsong

solitary

solitary singular

nothing like the symphonies of spring

I remember the last time I was awake at dawn

it must have been may

back then, the daylight would force its way prematurely into the night

loud

loud bright

you can stand at the edge of days like that

as if at the edge of the ocean, and think:

'still all this to come'

and then it comes.

and, when it goes

you're left open-mouthed and indignant.

'I wanted more. I could have

done

done MORE'

and I want it back

but no

but no what I want

is to stand forever at the edge

thinking:

'still all this to come'

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