Dawn is naked and alive
pirouetting in the street outside
she is a broad grey sky, endless above
It’s not rain…
just some foggy spray licking windows
a coat the building wears
a metaphor I cannot interpret
All irony is groggily lost on me
yawning with my whole body
struggling with the load of memory
I shoulder daily
Maybe I should stay indoors
get the fire going, the kettle boiling
That armchair won’t sit in itself
those books won’t read themselves…
How easily these stories are told to me
voices pitched and plot unfolding systematically
inspiration distilled onto the pages
the bittersweet feeling as I turn them
with story presenting; story nears its ending
time growls and time swells across all things
I read ‘the doorbell is ringing’
So, I leave the room
to check for the uninvited
There’s no one there
and I return to find…
The kettle has melted on the stove
the fire has spilled onto the carpet
the armchair roars in flames
those flames are toying with the curtains
All my books are burning
the whole house an inferno now
the house is burning down
Standing, cursing, in the sooty street
‘O Dawn! What have you done to me?
you have killed all of the trinkets
that I felt expressed my personality
you have released
all of the memories anchored to them
now they are free
and floating ghostly in the morning air
Oh Dawn, you have stripped me bare of all I carried
I’m no longer tethered to anything here
Oh Dawn, I am free to start a new journey
I’ll have to leave in the clothes I’m wearing
Oh Dawn, what have you done to me?
you have set me free to start again…’
[2014]
Photo Credit: https://www.instagram.com/nightwalkermagazine/
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The Lighthouse 
For goodness sake Tom… There is so much to say about this poetry I hardly know where to start (I’ll start at the beginning).
You open with such beautiful imagery ‘pirouetting in the street outside’ is such a wonderful phrase. And when you write ‘a metaphor I cannot interpret’ I can completely relate š
But then (but then Tom) you move into something entirely different which at first feels familiar and then I realise I’ve slipped into another world. I have the revelation that you’ve done a bate and switch and this poem is not what I thought it would be about. There is a renewal or sort, but it’s a different kind… Not the delicate, gentle kind we often associate with Dawn, but a brand new start. It’s at the end when I realise I need to read it again to find all the layers of meaning you have hidden between your words.
All of this, makes it brilliantly written. Bravo, bravo. Your Dawn, is quietly more than it seems and the writer in me is delighted by it.
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Wow, thanks for the comment Bree. That’s got to be the longest feedback I’ve had on WP. I’m so pleased you enjoyed coming on this vaguely surreal ride. There are a handful of days in our lives which bring with them such monumental change that it’s impossible to go back to how things used to me. We’ve got to embrace those days and see the hope in what they bring to us. I love that you responded to this one as much as you did. I never knew if it fully worked or not. š
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Glad you enjoyed my novel as I enjoyed your poem… Don’t get used to it š
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I double like this one for the scenes playing out in my head while reading. Thanks Tom for the movie.
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Thank you Ingrid! There’s a stream-of-consciousness to this one which was fun to write. I had a clear scene in my mind I wanted to describe (a lot like The Upside Down Girl, I posted the other day) and this was how it all came out. I’m so pleased it played out like that in your head, that is absolutely what I was hoping for. Thanks for reading and commenting. š¤
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