Dawn breaks
and spills herself
like black coffee
I drink to calm
shaken nerves and
wash away lingering
residue
of tragedy.

In disguise
she cannot hide,
for day was born
a creature
of the night.
She sends me
on a flight
of fantasy.

When I think
I might begin
to understand her,
she resists,
puts up a fight
and claims there’s
no cure
for her kind.

She mocks me
for finding beauty
in her light
and pulls me back
to dark reality
reflected in
morning coffee
and my mind.

On good days,
I break through fear 
and stand ready, 
a one-winged bird
on the brink
of reborn flight.

Then dawn breaks
another day
and spills herself
like black coffee
that I drink
noon, morn or night.