It's Still Life

Bright Yellow

dawn is a pilgrim—
always elsewhere

it can keep its fire
its long tease

beginnings grow here —
damp, dark soil
in my own earth

dawn has nothing
my yellow tulips cannot give

rooted in their small kingdom,
open-throated,
bright

a curve of yellow,
impossible,
and enough

no horizon to chase

this is dawn
my garden

morning
is home.

Written for Writers’ Digest Poem-a-Day Challenge for April 2026. Prompt word: dawn