There is only one day left, always starting over: it is given to us
at dawn and taken away from us at dusk.
~Jean Paul Sartre
Soon enough—swallows begin
to stir under the barn’s eaves—
one becomes three, becomes five,
filling up twilight’s air— so many
blue-black wings scissor-switch
sky to yard—patterns cut in figure
eight precision, turning dawn’s
pink light into a ramp of sun that
singles out our bedroom window,
our pillows soaked with sleep, and
wakes us to swallows sitting side
by side on a power line, chipping
a tune that echoes until we rise &
look out bleary-eyed upon gardens
we’ve left undone, knowing we
have another day to finish
what we’ve started the day
before yesterday.
M.J. Iuppa's fourth poetry collection is This Thirst (Kelsay Books, 2017). For the past 29 years, she has lived on a small farm near the shores of Lake Ontario. Check out her blog: mjiuppa.blogspot.com for her musings on writing, sustainability & life's stew.
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