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Poetry By
  Bethany Powell

Published on: 1/11/2013
One Morning

when we wake up and your fingers curl back from mine
and I relearn the smell of you
since I've been dreaming
though we laid so close together
and the sun is too eager to make us smile
and runs in the window
highlighting my puffy eyes
and making sootmarks of your beard-roots

whether you kiss me after stretching,
just go start the coffee,
or spend a few moments in motionless wondering,
there will be a laugh waiting for us further in--
further in the day, in the year,
in the life that waits before us
empty stationary like a hill
rolling down from our feet or up as a mountain
for us to climb
and I'll stare at your back, amazed.
Because this tomorrow came.

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