As a new day dawns, that golden orb quietly rising to awaken the earth,
my love for you receives life anew, a completely fresh rebirth.
When the day rests her golden head upon the horizon’s tangerine shoulder,
my love for you becomes a dream, more vivid and shamelessly bolder.
Day becomes night; night becomes day, and so the rotations of life are wrought,
but my love for you wanes not, nor lessened is each memory and thought.
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As a new day
when the day
day becomes night
and at the same time, life anew, golden head, the rotations wrought, writ and wring, wishing for understanding.
I feel wrung out, thank you. I think that's what poetry should do, exhaust living.
Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
Regis