Almost Out of Reach

For a moment, when you first wake,
you live in an Edward Hopper nightmare,
the light always just out of reach.

It passes of course. Once you understand
you can walk to the light,
and it does not flee.

About this poem

A morning (my morning) poem. A reminder to myself: Walk towards the light. It does not flee. It began as a 10-stanza poem until I finally cut it down to the right size.

The picture was taken in a round barn at the Hancock Shaker Village.

Tom