Now that the sun is coming up after 7am, there’s a chance I might encounter my old flame, the dawn, from time to time. It’s been ten years since our yearlong affair, and I haven’t stopped fantasizing about writing a memoir about our time together.
The dawn became my muse, my inspiration. When we shared those rarefied, private rendevous, my soul came alive with sparks of excitement, or serenity, or revelation. But alas, the two of us reside in different time regions. The dawn demands an absolute commitment that I could not sustain.
Nevertheless, on those occasions when we meet, I am flooded with the same sparkling seas of warmth in my heart and soul, even today, when the thermometer read 2 degrees Fahrenheit. Nothing can ever remove my deep attachment to the dawn, and the dawn, in turn will never let me down.
My 60th year in 60,000 words
Day 114: 144 words, TOTAL = 18,718; 41,282 remaining
Robin Clifford Wood is a writer and writing teacher. She lives in central Maine with her husband and dogs, loves to be outdoors, and enjoys ever-expanding horizons through her grown children and their multi-species families.