• Darigan Daily Drop

Before Dawn...

Before dawn cracks the skein of mist

and only the wood thrush sings,

the aroma of fresh brewed coffee brings

memories both sweet and bitter.

Moments round and full of juice,

tastes on tongue,

redolent scents

wood smoke collected in bonfire curls,

her soft milkweed shoulders

and turned out feet,

a catalytic grin,

freckled skin,

capacious eyes

artist hands and fingers-

a laugh that lingers still

in hollow trees

and along the rambling ridge side.

A cabin erected in a cloud,

spiral staircase of pine limbs,

milky way collected in steel tins

cracking branches of hoofed creatures in the wood

kindling stacked in old bins-

granite pathway she made

glitters with dew

the pilgrim soul in me

the pilgrim soul in you

Memories of days gone

Fleece, long shorn,

Soft still, yet turning green at the edges-

Clusters of so many berries

on so many grey ledges.

Tanned leather, old boots, rusted saw.

Vintage snow suit hanging in studio,

Unused sewing machine, threads and needles,

glass beads, brass settings, hammered silver

Memories soldered to moments

when mist hangs heavy,

saturates tree limbs,

a robin joins the morning matins,

one lone candle flame,

at times calling her name,

and for an instant the birds quiet

tilt their tender heads, blink onyx eyes

and resume their plaintive and joyful cries.

August 6 2019

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2019 copyright, Michael Darigan                    Stone Silo Presss, Liberty, Maine

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