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
It's Still Life 
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