The Early Sky Is Degas Yellow and You Are Still Asleep

I love this time of day. The only leaves left are

small silhouettes against the sky. They will go

unnoticed once the world wakes. Yesterday

while we were driving, George was setting

up the sawhorses outside his shop. As we

rolled through Parchment, the sun I so love

flooded the intersection and I couldn’t see the

light was red. I started through it. You called out

and I blamed it on the sun. You questioned my

sight. We argued briefly. Then you wondered if

I should be using a table saw. I bristled at the

limitation. The sun then flooded on you. And

for a moment, I was able to drop my stubborn

denial that things are slowly breaking down.

For the moment, I could step out of me and

see how hard it is for you who cares so much

for everything you love. I know saying I’ll be

careful doesn’t always help. But as we turned

onto E Ave, I felt how much you love me. So

much goes unnoticed once the world wakes.

We are small silhouettes against the early

sky. I love this time of day.