The doves woke me
cooing outside my window and calling me out
they weren’t crying but singing in celebration
another morning
of a day that could bring both rain and rainbows
one dependent on the existence of the other

We stand so small on this spinning sphere
generating a light that can be seen from space
feeling like captains when we are only passengers
mourning each loss of luminance
as if it might plunge us into pitch
too close to one another to see we remain ablaze
even though our course is inevitable


Julie Ayers
NaPoWriMo Day 22


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