get dressed, rush off to the train,
and head into the city.
Adrenaline
courses my veins,
churning the pool
of my fatigue.
I slither out of bed and, of course, my dog is up because I can hear
him shaking awake, the distinct clink of his tags emanating from the next room.
Adrenaline
courses my veins,
churning the pool
of my fatigue.
I slither out of bed and, of course, my dog is up because I can hear
him shaking awake, the distinct clink of his tags emanating from the next room.
I dress in the dark. My wife stirs.
What time is it?
Shhh, I say. Sleep.
The dog and I head out the door.
The sky is black and bruised
with the arrival
of another day —
high purple light
spilling through
a thin layer of
clouds marching east.
The air crackles with cold, and we both walk briskly. The dog charges
ahead, sniffing trees and rocks and grassy spots, marking as he goes.
The leaves of native cherry, sumac, and silver birch
frame the path to the sea.
They are still green
but darker this morning,
ready to go, as we all must.
When we get down to the water’s edge, the ocean is as smooth
The dog and I head out the door.
The sky is black and bruised
with the arrival
of another day —
high purple light
spilling through
a thin layer of
clouds marching east.
The air crackles with cold, and we both walk briskly. The dog charges
ahead, sniffing trees and rocks and grassy spots, marking as he goes.
The leaves of native cherry, sumac, and silver birch
frame the path to the sea.
They are still green
but darker this morning,
ready to go, as we all must.
When we get down to the water’s edge, the ocean is as smooth
as a good thought — unblemished, calm, and deep.
My eyes scan the horizon,
the wind picks up,
and the sun cracks the surface,
breaking another day —
all red and orange and blue.
The dog and the light,
scatter on the rocks
in all directions.
breaking another day —
all red and orange and blue.
The dog and the light,
scatter on the rocks
in all directions.
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