Shrinking Violet

It’s the strangest thing to be awake
as this hour breaks and then recedes,
a wave of purple ebbing
on a dark brown shore,
like blood drying on the skin
around a wound, a healing
almost hurting me.

Even as I watch the colors
change I’m not sure I believe
that depths so dark
can clear and shine and wash
the sand clean as a virgin
blushing as she lets her last defense
fall gently to the floor.

It is such a demonstration
of what happens when I’m dreaming,
of the sweeping changes I’ve been launching.
It is all that I can do
to hold the tears in place,
behind my eyes.

I’ve been so unconscious,
so ensconced in opaque sleep
I failed to see the bronze horizon
stretching past my shoulder
or the miracle of parting mists,
the shrinking violet that leaves
the land and sky and sea
a brilliant, open plain,
white and blue and green.


About Dan

Published novelist, poet, essayist, copywriter, photographer and college educator. Visit me at

Posted on November 24, 2011, in Self Development. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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