Daybreak Poem

Daybreak appears
When a horse neighs
Teton Sioux, Tranlator Frances Densmore, 1918

When the five men died I fell
Into a deep sleep. I woke in 1998.
I woke in 2003. I woke today, every
Morning with its tribal forgiveness.

Each day the fight of the night
Before forgiven. Morning
Carries a Get out of Jail card.
Houdini morning, escape from water.

Morning with its attendant odes
And aubades, its acolytes. He is never
mad at me. My mother forgave me
for hating her over contorted issues.

A pink purse with a red dress. Permanent
waves. Morning, my buddha, Quan Yin
morning who hears the cries of the world.
We have one wren, one mocking bird.

Letting go. By this time of day the wolves
are calling the coyotes to casinos
I drove past the hunch of fur feeding
by Camel Rock. I sped by but the curve stayed.

I drink only tea. “That was lovely,” tea
says in a snooty accent. Even the worst
dreams release me. You love me.
Death will be a morning.