Sunrise
©2021 Susan Noyes Anderson
image by Lucas Ludwig on Unsplash
Soon or late, each soul must learn
how quickly the whole world can turn
upon its axis, in a flash,
as long-held dreams rain down in ash.
Soon or late, each soul must learn
how quickly the whole world can turn
upon its axis, in a flash,
as long-held dreams rain down in ash.
We do not see thee;
we are blind, and yet
we feel thy hand.
Always hold your people close.
Don’t let them stray too far.
Bear them within, as a reminder
who you really are.
Time heals all wounds, so they say,
but do these words hold true?
If yes, such healing plays me false, son,
when it comes to you.
Rain just gotta fall some time.
Fierce rain just gotta fall.
Sailing this sleek, silver ship
across an ocean of mustard, scrub oak
and California wildflowers;
I can almost feel the wind in my face,
the sea spray on my cheeks,
the ballast in my sails.
The sun fell out of the sky one day.
I propped her up on a flow of words.
She hung in a rather precarious way,
fluttered about like a wind-tossed bird.
I like to think
he’s with us still,
a photo on the window sill,
a memory of days gone by,
a shadow in his sister’s eye.