Rising Up From
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Here I, again, catch myself
Passing myself. Tonight
The sun will burn
Throughout the day
And well past midnight.

The sun’s mist of kindness
Rises up from iceberg fog—
A dream hiding quietly just below.
Today I catch myself
Catching the morning light

On the very tip of my tongue.
I am waiting and waiting for eternity
In the leaves of a single tundra
Flower. Always it has been there,
Alone and alive in the cold
Northern underbrush.

Point Barrow, AK

by M.L. Liebler, from The Moon a Box, New Issues Poetry & Prose
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