Stir Crazy
It’s not so dark this morning
as last night when the world gave
up her light and stars hid
behind the clouds.
Now fog lifts. We see clear.
At the edge of our lives the sun
waits permission. Welcome, we say
to that first stab of light that hits
the beach with a shout.
Waves fling back their hair,
rush up the shore. Ghost crabs
scatter. Butter nut clams dig deep
to escape the glare and glitter.
I dabble a toe in the undertow—
so inviting—and cast off fear
like old clothes, hold my breath,
dive into the surf, then rise
to face a fresh new day.
—Donnell Hunter
3 January 2012
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