A space in morning

A Space of Morning

There’s a space of morning where the sky is spilt.
Divided by the line of night purple only slightly revealing the pale blue of day.
A diagonal space between then and now.
Suns’ red pulls back one corner to slowly uncover a piece of what is to come.

Day breaks across the still darkened sky
Deep sleep black fades to grey.
Parts of the script we aren’t suppose to know.
Set off in parenthesis, the film moves to its next scene.

Sun rises to its eventual highest point
Early Monday morning down the highway again dropping her off at her second home.
I’m wondering where my little girl is among these grown folks.
I ask myself, has she found her place in the faces that look like hers? In this space for us?
Does she know where she is, where she is going?
Wheeling a part of her life up two flights to her closet of a room,
I tell myself I see my little girl, among the clutter.
My mind goes back to that day in August same highway same drive, unloading her comfort.
Hugs and kisses goodbye I watched her disappear down the hill to the waiting arms of her new life.
Is she the same? Of course not. Growth does not, can not come without change. There’s still a tinge of little girl in her voice, but just enough to let me know my super chocolate princess is still here.