Morning Truths

I'm in love with the skeletal trees

stretching on tiptoe in frozen soil

and reaching for a sky

they'll never be tall enough to touch

My heart aches at the sight

of that single star

—pinpricking light—

against a bruised-blue backdrop.

It will be there still

when the sun rises,

glorious and encompassing,

though we will forget.

We only remember stars

when brighter lights fade.

And that shift of dawn.

A gradient of blues, vignetted.

A view narrowed and focused

on the most important thing.

A reminder:

Morning always comes.