To Face the Day--By Peggy Heinrich--United States

To Face the Day

Sleep is the little death
that surfaces each day
in the sullen morning face
the bathroom mirror frames
the puffy eyes, pouches heavy
from unforgiving gravity
the lips a downward curve
reflect tragedy's grim mask
a splash of chill
the zombie wakes
the mouth reverses
to a somewhat smile
light from a distant star
floods each freshly opened eye
a sort of self returns
to the person in the mirror
the face, the soul revive
with each quick thought,
each spoken word, each smile
as day ticks down to noon

Peggy Heinrich's poems have appeared in Verdad, Future Cycle, and the new renaissance and many other small press journals. Her books, A Minefield of Etceteras and Sharing the Woods, showcase her longer poems. She has also published a collection of her tanka, Forward Moving Shadows, and a collection of her haiku, Peeling an Orange, both with photographs by John Bolivar. A long-time resident of New York and Connecticut, she now lives in Santa Cruz, California.