Hours Before the Dawn, the Sun Rises

Sky and lake
Rippled with moonlight
Clouds a veil
Drawn over coy constellations

On the shore
She stands
In a susurrus of near silence
But for the lap of wavelets
On salt crusted sand

Intent on the texts
Passed between friends
“I am free” she writes
“Good” comes the reply
A pause, and then, “Be safe!”
“I will” she taps out
Adds “I don’t know how long
I’ll be AWOL”
A long wait before
“Your leave is authorized” and
“Take all the time you need”
“I will” she repeats

She smiles
Throws the phone into the lake
Where concentric ripples
Interrupt the linear
Gradually diminishing
Until they disappear altogether

She stands a good while longer
Content
Relieved
If a little anxious
About what the coming daylight will bring
Then shrugs it off

“Fuck him”

Hours before the dawn
The darkness has already ended