Sometimes I Think of Dawn


Sometimes I think of dawn
as Godís first cigarette,
a quiet time when
he tries to shake his dream.

When the sun reminds him
this is real, he exhales
fragrant, pensive clouds.

Sometimes I think of dawn
as the way God feels
when he wants to be alone,
or as one last sigh before
he dies and leaves us
to carry on.

Sometimes I pity God
for what heís done.

Sometimes I pity us,
because there is
no god at all.

Sometimes I donít.

Sometimes I think of dawn
as a ripe expansive field,
a cathedral without a dome.

Today it is a drop of wine
running down a new brideís
scented breast and throat.

I will go mad long before it dries.
God or no god, I will go mad.

September 28, 2006








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