My Dawn
The only light
is from my laptop
and the first streams
of daylight filtered
through the curtains.
Then, for no reason,
I think of Wiesel’s
thin novel—just 81
pages—of a Shoah
survivor in British
Mandate Palestine.
He is a freecdom
fighter, a terrorist
some would say,
who will soon
descend the steps
of his safe house
to a cellar where
he will execute
a captured British
officer. One shot,
and it will be over.
What I recall
most? Tbe offcer
is telling a story
as his executioner
squeezes the trigger.
We never hear
the tale, the teller
dies too soon.
This is my dawn,
not Wiesel’s
So why I think
of his dark book
eludes me.
I only know my
room slowly gets
brighter, my dog
sleeps on the couch
and I am alive.
7 thoughts on "My Dawn"
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Wow. Really strong and intense piece of writing, Lee. Especially liked the sixth stanza “This is my dawn…”. Great work.
Haunting! I’m thankful that you’re alive!
Wonderfully complex poem, Lee. The freedom fighter and his shocking act; the doomed officer and his untold story; the initially gloomy room and then a brightening. Somehow it all hangs together, a bit of a miracle.
The way you hold our hand so we don’t break in this is wonderful and then bring us, without fear, back to sanctuary… this is holy.
This poem is wonderfully layered and excellently crafted. I keep re-reading it, because it calls us to return. Great work!
I like how it unfolds. Brilliant ending.
Love how you bring us intimate in the space.
Yessss: “This is my dawn,
not Wiesel’s”