my light fell upon a woman dreaming —
well into the morning, my light had lit the world
for many hours seeming; yet not she wakes for me —
the Night was her lover. no beautiful paintings
could i make for her, no sunrise gentle, pastel green —
she loved the gold and purple screen preceding
her Nighttime’s coming. my warm rays gave way to
the shrouded mystery Night uses, to shield her heart
from me — how could someone shun the morning Sun?
was I mistaken to write off the beauty of a Day
that’s done?

for maybe it was Her the Sun —
and I, only dreaming.

30 Day Writing Prompts
Week 1. Observations and Reflections
Prompt 1. Describe a sunrise as if
it were a person waking up
2024