Just there.
That great wide moon sliding through the dusty pink sky toward the horizon
Toward the foothills.
And my heart skips a beat.
6 degrees.
Bright and cold.
Night as clear as day shining in the western sky this morning.
We’re spinning somewhere in between.
Between dreams, around memories.
Rubbing the sleep from our eyes,
Stepping out into the winter air.
There is nothing to consider, no terms to weigh.
The answers are strewn out beyond the headlights, neat and definite.
I know exactly what must come next.
And you would too if you were standing here with me, in the silver and pink light of this daybreak.
Nothing is difficult.
And it never is.
That quiet before the clouds roll in and the chaos stirs again.
© Elizabeth McLaughlin
