Dawn

By Nick Van Borst

when she first poked out her head that morning

there was something strange,

and yet unmistakable,

in the cool morning air

she slid out of her hole into the sunlight,

turned her head first one way and then the other

and, filled with anticipation,

bounded into the distance

everywhere it was happening,

as small creatures emerged from their resting

and scented an unmistakable absence

in that cool morning air

reluctant at first, as if with disbelief,

they investigated the strange stillness

brought by the night,

almost expecting, in a blink,

the world to return to motion

but the day wore on and the silence persisted,

until it was filled with their excitement

at the feast which would last for weeks,

until the last food rotted

a day went by and then another

while life found a new, meandering rhythm

and the birds welcomed each morning

with a song that had not been heard

for hundreds of years.