Awakenings

The rising sun in El Paso
cannot be seen because
of the mountains, an
exercise in anticipation,
the morning light blocked
from view except as a
lightening border along
the peaks’ edges, a blue
streak that pales further
with each passing minute.

At last the sun bursts
over their angles and edges,
illuminating in vibrant streaks
of gold, rose, and purple.

I begin to see clearer details
in the toys abandoned the
previous night, lawn furniture,
and delineating rock walls,
as my small world awakens
once again.