Morning

Dark and dim,

Everywhere is black.

The smell of things stale

And of things made new,

A wetness is under my feet;

I’m standing on many tiny blades,

And I shift my weight.

Suddenly, a fire

Rises in the east!

Violent explosions and restless

Energy warms my face.

I feel a doleful ache in my stomach

Like an empty chasm –

Hunger pains.

The fire blinds me and

My feet are slick and

I am hungry

For something

New.

-k.n.berlin