First Light

Jesse Doiron

March 13, 2022

Beyond dark leaves 

of backyard trees 

the sun unhides

the sky.

Such blaze, 

was only dust

before —

a dim-lit firmament.

It rages, 

now,

within the space

that has no human time.

My wife, 

awake, 

without her robe, 

pulls back her auburn hair.

I see it

in first light

as if the last—

ineffable.

Her smile 

arises, flies aflame, 

then hides inside

the sun.  

Jesse Doiron spent 13 years overseas in countries where he often felt as if he were a “thing” that had human qualities but couldn’t communicate them. He teaches college, now, to people a third his age. He still feels, often, as if he is a “thing” that has human qualities but can’t communicate them.