One Single Impression: Slowly
Over hills I have watched since childhood.
I have always wondered where exactly those hills are.
Connecticut hills, yes, but which ones--
And how do I get to them,
And how does it feel there
As the sun rises?
I am standing in a cold kitchen
Watching the sun rise slowly
On a January morning.
I hold my coffee mug to my chest,
That it might warm me a little,
And I watch as the day comes,
Gently ending a long and soundless night.
The sun moves slowly,
Unimpressed by a wind that rises
Strong and sends a message under the back door
Come out here
And see for yourself
What it is to be on the eastern hill
That feels the sun first.
Someone who rises just now
Wants to know.
Come and give your answer to the dawn.
One Single Impression