Easy Dawn

At this easy hour of dawn
the air touches my face lightly
tracing the edges of my smile
and the crow's feet
around my waking eyes.

The ocean is open
and the clouds above
take nothing away from the birdsong
and the clatter of the simple waves
lapping at the sand.

I fold and unfold myself here--
a washer woman
scrubbing the stains
out of my skins,
snapping the fabric I have woven
and hang myself out to dry
in the sun and breezes
filled with the force of life.

Clean again and again
with each wave of water--
each moment of laughter
at my lack of faith.

I am new
in the slow movement
of this long night
into the coming day.