Dawn had not yet tie-dyed our arc of sky.
The wallabies of Waterdeath* had not
yet stirred. We had not groaned yet by & by
emerged from wombs of warmth to face the day,
ingesting caffeine at our usual spot
and breathing life into our lifeless clay.
Chill blue light shone down from the gibbous moon
onto the hamster cages that we call
our homes. Dawn had not passed our farthest dune
upon its way to greater, grander things,
like winking out the nightlight in the hall.
Gray statues shaped like birds had not spread wings.
*Waimate
