The sunrise is a rainbow easter egg this morning. Its colors catch my eye as I walk past my window on my way to do something else. There is always something else; pour milk, pick up socks, feed cats.
But today I stop, captivated, and sit — to watch it do what sunrises do.
Unlike me, it is in no hurry.
Yet somehow, before my eyes, the rainbow has melted into everyday sky colors, and I smile at its slyness.
When I was actively drinking, the sun rose like a fresh wound I had to triage. I was in a constant state of starting over, walking the wrong way up an escalator. The sunrise was an urgent notice for a bill I knew I couldn’t pay.
Today, at three years sober, I hold this momentary morning gift like a secret treasure. Sometimes the most important things happen when we are on the way to do something else.
This prose poem was written in response to POM Prompt #22 — What’s Out Your Window by ◦•●❄ Christina M. Ward ❄●•◦
Vixen Lea is a mother to two small children and several animals, but first and foremost, she is a human struggling to hang on to joy and presence. Poetry helps her remember who she was before juice boxes and laundry, and playdates. Her writing has appeared in Flying Island literary journal, The Manifest-Station, and can be found on her blog wakinguprazzledazzle.com.
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