it was still dark when she pulled her body up, stepped into the day
yoga pants, sweatshirt, walking socks and shoes
she needs to hold the railing to get down the stairs now
crone bodies need something to lean on first thing in the morning
she picked peas from the garden and put them in her pocket
found pistachios in the pantry, put those in her pocket too
then tied her hair into two braids
poured coffee into her cup with the lid that she bought in Cheyenne.
from the bushel basket she grabbed the quilt her daughter had made
and left, not bothering to lock the door
knowing no one would bother to open it
it wasn't far, less than a mile
just an old farmer's pond
she put down the quilt and sat in the dark, facing east
watching for daylight, praying prime
offering blessing to the darkness that makes light mean something
wanting to experience the in-between space
between dark and light, between night and day
a thin veil

she's come early, or the sun is late
she lays down on one side, still a sentinel looking east
until finally she witnesses orange be born
and names this moment "God, contained in one color"
she will stay here until God won't be contained

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