Uncertain Light

You wake early in the morning
unsure what is a dream
and what is real.

And you lay still, afraid
that any movement
will ripple the universe

and send love disappearing
like a frightened bird
in a flurry of wind and noise

and little else.

About this poem

Actually, I have little to say about this poem this evening. The picture however, was taken just down the street from me in West Pawlet, VT.