Daybreak
by SARAH DICKENSON SNYDER
Muscling in the blinds
in lines of light,
the sun sharpens
your shoulder blades
as you sleep. I wake
with banners of words pulled
through a sea-side sky,
lift the covers’ wide wing.
There is no quiet like morning,
no center flowering
like a journal opening.
I feel another symmetry
when I surrender
to the small gods
that pull my hand
across the page.
SARAH DICKENSON SNYDER has written poetry since she knew there was a form of writing with conscious linebreaks. She has three poetry collections: The Human Contract (2017), Notes from a Nomad (nominated for the Massachusetts Book Awards 2018), and With a Polaroid Camera (2019). Recently, poems have appeared in Artemis, The Sewanee Review, and RHINO.
Beautifully done. Thank you for sharing this moving poem.
Gorgeous. Live the « muscling » light. It dii ou es feel that way some mornings.