This is a commentary on living, when the living is hard.
Dawn has come to smother the light
in my house.
As I douse the candle's flicker
its feeble flame shines at the window,
lifting the road beyond
into patterned pathways, glinting
in the early bright;
the soft rain of midnight's darkling succour
is almost gone.
It will return tomorrow, unbidden and invisible,
and I will greet its falling
with a morning smile
for its glib gift of balm.
Life is a traveller; I am
but a calm soul upon my journey.