Morning Space

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 Morning Space


When you have dreams

that from the floor

you see your favorite student shot;


that your partnership with the man there

is founded on being brave enough

to treat the wound in his groin—


those are the mornings

you say yes to the light you want

even if you have to scootch the cat.


You go outside to go inside, and try to keep finding,

—from ridge to crow to purple flower to leaf—

that great sky everyone keeps talking about.


You fight the urge

to text your gal pal, hold off on listening

to that voicemail from a certain him.


You allow yourself to check

your virtual car windshield, see if anyone

in your community has left you a little note.


The emails from your poet friends

and that one comedian, so skinny and cute,

these make it in, make you smile.


This is the best you can do.

This is the best you can do.  

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