Rise up without fear
to the coffee and daylight
skimming the dark.
Rise through the remnants of the dream
where you are lost, all pay phones broken.
Rise toward the piano you haven’t played
for months, and place your hands
on the keys of your memory.
Play badly but loud, and let the ringing
rise through your arms.
Rise into the first slant of light breaking
across the living room floor
to coat the sleeping dog.
Open the door into the cold and run
to the passenger door to lean in
and start the car in your slippers.
Rush back inside and let the next
vessel warm for you as you dress and pause,
breathe into one still drop
of this raining life,
the air heavy enough to hold you.