Dawn Walk

Dawn Walk – Edward Hirsch

Some nights when you’re asleep

Deep under the covers, far away,

Slowly curling yourself back

Into a childhood no one

Living will ever remember

Now that your parents touch hands

Under the ground

As they always did upstairs

In the master bedroom, only more

Distant now, deaf to the nightmares,

The small cries that no longer

Startle you awake but still

Terrify me so that

I do get up, some nights, restless

And anxious to walk through

The first trembling blue light

Of dawn in a calm snowfall.

It’s soothing to see the houses

Asleep in their own large bodies,

The dreamless fences, the courtyards

Unscarred by human footprints,

The huge clock folding its hands

In the forehead of the skyscraper

Looming downtown. In the park

The benches are layered in

White, the statue out of history

Is an outline of blue snow. Cars,

Too, are rimmed and motionless

Under a thin blanket smoothed down

By the smooth maternal palm

Of the wind. So thanks to the

Blue morning, to the blue spirit

Of winter, to the soothing blue gift

Of powdered snow! And soon

A few scattered lights come on

In the houses, a motor coughs

And starts up in the distance, smoke

Raises its arms over the chimneys.

Soon the trees suck in the darkness

And breathe out the light

While black drapes open in silence.

And as I turn home where

I know you are already awake,

Wandering slowly through the house

Searching for me, I can suddenly

Hear my own footsteps crunching

the simple astonishing news

That we are here,

Yes, we are still here.