I first saw dawn from the
other side of the night
through a blotted ink drop
in my dark brown curtains.

It was five a.m. and I
stubbed my toe trying to
push the violet filter
away from the window.

The aquamarine strains
of a magpie robin
rebelled against the tinge
of retreating darkness.

Dreams escaped like fireflies
on toxic daylight wings
that only glowed at night
till the smokescreen faded.