Posted by: Peadar Ban | September 19, 2009

Eat Dawn Waiting

It is nearly mid-day outside, but
Midnight still hangs hushed
Within, and midnight urgent whispers
All the sounds we make,
We two early mourners at a wake,
And walk, as if dampening slippers
Covered tiptoeing feet,
Across thick carpets on the floor
To the tight shut door
In a quiet house on a quiet street.

“Are they…?”  “Yes, still asleep,”
He answers returning where I wait
In the way between the kitchen
And dining room, the table set
For meals eaten not yet
And maybe never, plates
To be left how long, food to keep
While night lasts how long
And they sleep long past dawn.

It is long past dawn and yet
Dawn waits near my breast.
I leave and promise to return
Tomorrow.  But, I shall pray
The sleeping then will wake and eat
Dawn waiting, patient, near to me.


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