Member-only story
The Color of Awake
A poem
Jan 19, 2023
A woodpecker wakes me up
each morning —
a faraway knock at the new horizon.
I stretch my legs
under the sheets,
look up into the still blades
of the ceiling fan,
search with my hand
for the warmth
of my wife’s bare back,
the tangles of her hair,
woven fleece & thread.
The air escapes my nose again
and finds another perch
within the day.
©️ Trapper Markelz 2023