A Publication of Humanities Tennessee

“Sunrise #126”

Book Excerpt: Solstice to Solstice to Solstice

Sunrise #126

Yes to bare feet; it is April. And yes to any illuminative stab at all the roiling black out back.

At twilight, darkness and light brush past one another. Civil or uncivil, you ask? Both—and always silent. An unspoken “Ah—there you are,” exulting or grim, at each passing, each change of the guard. Day breaks, or night falls, and there’s no snapping string, no shattering glass, no jagged pieces to sweep up or tiptoe around. A brief encounter, a hard stare or a furtive embrace, and then a clean break, clean unless you count shadows, dark closets, the moon.

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