Dawn

Maxfield Parrish pre-sunrise sky unfolding. What colors. Behind my house, grade-school classrooms are lit up in the three-story brick building. My neighbor's kitchen is lit. She has a gigantic glass double-door and I can see right into her dining room, which makes it feel like her house is a doll house and I could reach right inside and set the table! She's an early bird too. I drag the heavy gray plastic trash barrel down our driveway and out to the street.

I've had it with holiday butter and sugar. I need a rest from them until next Christmas. I am ready to eat endless greens and swim at the Y. It's fifty degrees out, a warm January morning. Perhaps I'll walk all over town until the sun is a few inches above the horizon.