darklight

for S.E.






Waking and rising in the January darklight,
I recall the morning when we didn’t watch the dawn.
That was when I realised it was winter; now we’re past
the solstice and night’s pendulum no longer swings as
far as it did. Soon the both of us will have to grow
accustomed to light pressing on our eyelids, to light
rousing us from dreams. By the time I’ve scrubbed and lathered
the sleep from my skin, the sky’s already indigo.
(When I leave the house the world’s already there, ready
and waiting for me, but the sky is muffled up in
thick grey clouds. I wear a scarf. It’s cold).


anthony adler (St Albans, Hertfordshire, 1990)