The Morning

The morning in the morning
shrinks the nonsense
of all time
not in the morning

In the light in the morning
all the other times
grow vibrantly irrelevant

I cannot distinguish in the morning
the real morning
from my dream cause it was
so advanced when the morning
ruined it

And my life
in the morning
is quiet and incidental

and the dew in the morning
chills my soles when I go out
in the morning

and if I don’t go out in the morning
I go out late in the day
and pick bees gathering material

for my next unreality
I can be truly happy in
in the next morning’s dull glow and fog

It is already less real this pleasure
I made up about the morning
out of the morning’s blur
in the cold toast of the morning
under the morning’s lampshade

and out of the morning’s still nothingness
something fools me
which barely moves me

Emily Toder is the author of the chapbooks Brushes With (Tarpaulin Sky, 2010) and I Hear a Boat (Duets, 2010). Her first full-length collection, Science, was published by Coconut Books in October 2012. She lives in Western Massachusetts.

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