Red Light at Morning

A Golden Shovel from Kimiko Hahn’s poem “The Dream of Bubbles,” in her book Brain Fever.

Smoke is obscuring the sun, the
message it brings is of unborn
dreams from the north. It may
remind us always to be
grateful. We are seeing
the grief and ashes of some-
where else. Light is a telltale thing.

5 thoughts on “Red Light at Morning

  1. I liked this one. “The unborn may be seeing something” is a provocative line—which I read first—and then your response! It conjured up our current smoke from Canada here in Bellingham and the deeper essence of life. Thanks.

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