Daybreak

Eastern light

late to the window

delayed by the trees

slipped slowly over the sill

and touched the toe

of one foot 

to the floor.

He opened his eyes

sprang from his rest

and prepared

for the voyage.

In the acrid motes of 

his parents’ cigarette smoke

between the hard bars of sunlight

jutting into the kitchen

he had water and toast

in isolation.

Through the door

and down the green hill

grand columns of trees anchored the soil

and held on high the green canopy

that echoed with choirs of flittering feathers

and windblown leaves among the spires.

He respired in the fresh wine-sweet air

with the rawness of the world

felt the high free grown and reaching

dew-dampened grass

bestow its cool blessings upon his skin

and communed among friends

in solitude.