Photo by Emily Chow / North by Northwestern.

    And I have seen the sun rise
    Five times in the past few weeks.
    I was turning down sheets
    As the birds began to sing.

    The sky glowed in a wavering
    Pulsation that precious few
    Were also witnessing. And
    Witnessing far away, unknown.

    One whizzed by, so close
    Almost plunging into my ear.
    Others followed, but weary eyes
    Were too heavy to confirm.

    The sun lay heavy and warm
    Along my spine as I tried
    To deny its gaze, defiant
    That I should try to forget it.

    One landed, softer than
    Noticeable. Light and lilting
    Steps along my forearm,
    Checking each tiny pore.

    Unfolding wings and taking
    Off, bored with being
    On my level.

    My window open, allowing
    Stagnant air to ease through the
    Holes, splitting apart and oozing
    Through the screen where wings
    Were once stuck.


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