Five Minutes Before Sunrise
Five minutes before sunrise,
and if this isn’t the time to
panic then I don’t know when.
I’d check the paper again,
but it’s just words printed
yesterday so how can they
possibly know time and tide
and sunsets and sunrises
and any manner of things
that have yet to happen.
Cripes, look how they bungle
election results and sports
predictions. Shouldn’t there
be birds chirping or something
by now? I’d get up and look
out the window but I’m scared
to death to know, and I can’t
move anyway. But then
I notice it. A piece of the dark
in front of me is being slowly
sliced in two by a sharp sliver
of light forcing itself between
my bedroom blinds, getting
wider now, and I can breathe
again. I was never really worried,
of course. Not really.
.