Ira Sadoff

JANUARY: FIRST LIGHT

I retrace the path
of the old railroad tracks
just before light. No noise:
the barn owl drifting into sleep,
the birds not yet awake.
The iron scars
have been melted down
for a war long fought and gone.
Then the evening edged out
by the first band of light,
across the strips of trees.
I know
I don�t have long to go:
the sleepless night that brought me
to the woods behind the house
is over now, and what fears I had
I left behind me there.
In the distance I make out rabbit tracks
and behind them, something larger,
a dog perhaps, on its trail.
The trail leads nowhere
and the rabbit�s safe.
A world without predators: the parent�s
dream. Why won�t it pass?
Look: the starling�s pulled that ribbon
of worm, the day�s unraveling,
we�re moving on, exhausted, ready to begin.