Awakening in the half light, upon investigation,
I find the sun is still in early stages of gestation.
As the day swells out her stomach from its early morn enclosure,
her womb is still half empty, eschewing full disclosure,
I sink into my pillow and wait for the full light,
held prisoner by the darkness, promised freedom by the light.
One part pulled by sleep, the other rues this hesitation,
caught here once again within the dawning day’s waystation.