Memory of Pink Faded Clouds

The early November sky
before sunrise is untouchable.
It’s quiet but fierce, wanting
to burst into the day
but takes a moment to breathe.
I drive east. I watch the dark
blue grow lighter
pops of yellow appear
below the horizon,
as though the sun is ripping through
the universe, through the land and sky,
to say good morning, hello.
Music plays, it’s too early to
comprehend a thought fully.
My eyes view this magic
through a grainy filter.
I replay it in my memories
hours later. It feels like
a different day,
a different time.
like a dream.
I see the faded pink clouds
float in the cod autumn air.
I don’t hear the music in my memory.
I hear a vibrant silence as I wait,
wait for the day to begin.

11.04.2021