She walks in Homer in a robe
of saffron; in Virgil she lies in a bed
of saffron. Her wonder intrigues
Shakespeare, and Tennyson,
even Thoreau watches her crisp
the pond’s edge. It takes a later time
to turn the dawn into darkness,
the light fractured and torn
into ragged shreds of memory.
Turning to the light as we call her name,
we hear only the echo
of a terrible silence.
In Greek mythology, Aurora is the goddess of the dawn.
Illustration: Aurora, acrylic on wood panel by Mike Hale.