People who rise in darkness
A poem by Joe Cottonwood

People who rise in darkness

From the street long ago
you see glow of windows
frosty and foggy
as you toss a roll of news.

You’re just a kid 
breathing clouds into the air
but you know they will pay 
when you ask each month 
without hassle, sometimes with a tip 
though not large.

You catch glimpses of bathrobe, 
of coffee pot, scent of bacon
or they wave, bundled outside 
scraping windshields of warming-up cars.

The houses still dark
might make up excuses, 
dodge you or complain
or be so rich you don’t exist
but the people who rise in darkness
are on your side.

About the Author:

Joe Cottonwood has repaired hundreds of houses to support his writing habit in the Santa Cruz Mountains of California. His latest book of poetry is Random Saints. He appreciates bushy eyebrows, big paws, and dog-eared pages.

Poetry Breakfast is an online journal publishing poetry and short plays.
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