I

Morning: the sun 
a hyena devouring the dark.

II

Morning’s riptide attempts
to pull me into reality
and I want no part of it.
Leave me to my nightmares.
Please.
Give me an infinite winter.
Uninvited light forcing
its way through the curtains.
The menacing magnolia trees
threaten to bloom.
Sun gives me the evil eye
and I give it right back.