young family portrait @ dawn

The day started well. We were asleep, as the night folded in and retreated, real quiet like. Real nice. Left without anyone knowing she left. After sharing her stars and her sweet summer darkness. Her shade cooled the earth and the air and the waters. She asked nothing in return, no, nothing at all. The night she retreated, and the day came, to call.

The air was a cool fifty. The sound of the silence was heavy, delicious. Like a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Quiet. Rich. Impermeable and whole. The air, a cool fifty, going on fifty-five. Circulating through town, with the taste of corn and scent of almond, and sweet summer wildflower. She carried the scent of sweet wildflower honey.

Then the birds started up, politely, maybe two at a time. The calls they repeated, maybe three by three times. Then tried out a different spacing, between breaths. Carefully setting the tone. Up in the trees, or down under eaves. Outside the home, in a nest papered with leaves.

 A clock am radio, at a low volume humm. Some nightshift wonder, still talking fresh into the day. With a warm-hearted colloquial, and a laughter contagion. Rare few would catch it, the laughter contagion. The lucky night owls. He shared his thoughts so sweetly, and with such elation. Through speakers. Talking to anyone. Drinking hot coffee in his sneakers. Laughing about kids in his life, maybe nephews and nieces. About coming together...or falling to pieces.

The day started well. The air a cool fifty. The birds set the tone. Against the graveyard shift dj and the wonderful silence. The box fan shared generously, the breeze from the delta. We felt it come over us, in our dreams and subconscious.

We were all asleep in the apartment. The Tibetan bell hung from the ceiling fan, softly chiming every once in a while. The ceiling fan spun slow on its calmest rotation, pushing the moist delta breeze, pusing fifty. Pushing it around. The air did not care. Kinda liked to be touched.

The moon was running high, when it started to fade out, like an ice cube dropped into a warm summer sky. The moon, she had offered us all many chances. Chances for romances in the tall grasses. Chances to find what we otherwise lost. Chances to appeal to some final burst of energy. Some reservoir typically untapped. The moon offered chances, before fading out. In the tall grasses, in the outskirts. In the outskirts of the city.

The sun came up slow and easy. Would have been shot down in a gunfight. So there would be no gunfight, not when the sun appeared that way. The day anticipated peace. The scavengers hung their heads and searched the soil for worms. The sun warmed the earth, and made the day up like soft clay. The sun made the day. The day like soft clay.

We all awoke to this. This soft day of clay and moist air, set into tranquility. With birds and clock radios, calling us out. Circulating air a cool fifty. Summer dawn sun and moonlight, kinda blue.

You and me, and the kittens make four. Four little creatures inside a small house. We all awoke, all four, all four of us. Number: 4. We all awoke in one room, but only one at a time. One by one by one by one. First was the kitten, the orange one, to be sure. The orange tiger tabby woke up by your feet. By your feet, in the sheet, curled up by your feet.

Next was me, I woke up next. Back to your chest. My soft summer feeling arose from hard, wicked dreams. My countenance, upset. Almost disturbed. But my youth returned to me in a flash, not just thoughts but some feeling. I could feel your arms around me, and your body come up against me. I was harbored by you, that's why I smiled in the sheets. The cats were curled up like some ropes around cleats.

I smiled in the sheets, by the bay window there. In the cool air. The blue white light. With the kittens at our feet. This was so welcome, like the sound of the birds and the box fan and radio. Like the silence that surrounded and harbored us, each morning.

You were still asleep, next to me. Next to me. I was slowly awakening to the light of the day. And the orange tiger tabby, who awoke first of four? His big brown eyes looked in mine. Up from a valley, behind the white sheets. Behind the pure dream of my waking, and yours. With the light from the east, and you by my side. With a kitten by the west wall and another by the east. And those beautiful brown eyes.

Those golden brown eyes. Your golden brown skin.
My pale figure, heavy rising up from the bed. To replete the hummingbird feeder, with liquid sugar. To get some OJ out of the freezer. To pour orange into blue cup.

Then you raised your pretty golden head. And you got yourself up.
Then the cat by the west wall, stretched up like a pony.
The kitten. The west wall. The starch sheets and moist air. The blue and white dawn of the day, so clear. I awoke next to you, next to you, my dear.

by Katya 07/13
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