Mariah Slone

Good Morning

In the night,
I found a message.
A wish of yours,
To see the sunrise
Together
On Sunday morning.

I have the same wish, so
I wake up too early,
And tiptoe downstairs,
To tell her
I’m going for a walk.

In the cellar, a bicycle is hidden
Behind vases, costumes, chairs
I lift its rusted body and struggle
To exit silently
Into the dim daylight.

Cold moisture collects
On my bare knuckles.
My legs defy tight, blue jeans
And speed through
The early morning chill.

A loose chain
--Thump
Slaps a rhythm on my bicycle.
I have to see you
Before the sky gets light

A steep hill replaces flat sidewalk,
Pedaling up, up, up…
In plain view,
At the top of the hill,
Is your sliding glass door.

I throw my bike into the woods
And press my nose to your door,
Making a butterfly on glass
With each exhale.

Good morning





[TABLE OF CONTENTS, LHS CLASS OF 2009 EDITION]


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