Just When

Sunrise over Flint Road

Just when the cold

the dark


juxtaposed with the road sign “Flint”

a polymorphic sun rose over the clouded East foothills.

At the intersection, on the radio

an elegant Baroque tune –a violin adaggio in E minor —

expanded my mind.


Just when the cold and the dark had

gained my submission

so I hoped for nothing,

this morning I was lifted by



Just when

loneliness and hard work

seemed the only road,

being mundane or beaten

seemed small

As the sunrise skittered on cloud shapes

and carelessly cast color through vapor

in Baroque swells.

I believed again

in love.





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