Dawn’s Lids are Sealed

No light presages day.
Sea and sky are pressed together,
seamless, tight
with no glimmer of the sun
to penetrate the clinging night
gluing them together
with sticky sleep.

No fanfare for the fireball;
the sun has stopped-
on boycott or strike?
All dawns have sun behind them
unlike billboards
of no interest on the other side,

Somewhere above the earth
our heater is still lit,
but we must have faith
though we can not see it.

This Is annoyance, inconvenience,
but certainly not catastrophe,
why not pretend it’s fun
and keep rosy colored glasses on.

I retain its image
behind my closed eyes
taking comfort from the glow of it
million of miles away- inside.
Come estimated evening,
night’s bloodless lids
still clench so tight
there is no crack.