Dear Day,

--Catherine Pierce

Lately I am more aware of how easily

you might lope carelessly off into a fog

of never and gray, and so when you come

in the morning with your pincers on,

when you wake me with your snorts

and hacks, when you lie down next to me

with your scales poking all my soft places,

I hold you to me. The bruises will heal,

and it isn’t your fault you’re so spiny.

Day, you lower your monstrous head

and let me pat it. You are gleaming

and everything. You are genus unknown,

phylum unnamed. You glint and lumber,

you drool and growl. Soon, maybe,

you’ll let me climb on your back. Soon,

maybe, we’ll bullet together into forests

and glades and gladness. So stay. Walk

beside me with your armor on, breathe

flames at the beasts that bite. If I get singed,

it’s okay. I’d pay levy upon levy

for your glittering shadow beside me.