Before the City Wakes

We start howling before the crowd can join in.
Raw voices rise.
Faces upturned.
Moon still hidden somewhere behind the skyline.
City sleeps but we don't.

Noise bounces off skyscrapers.
Freezing air cuts our lungs open.
We keep howling anyway.
That's the part I didn't expect to love.

Sunrise creeps over the rooftops.
Golden light spills on concrete like something spilled and not cleaned up.
We howl louder.

As day breaks we stop suddenly.
Breathless silence.
A moth flutters against my window.
Small wings, persistent.
I watch it the way I watch the candle.
Like it knows something I'm still learning.

As the light spreads I understand why we needed to howl it into being.
Some mornings don't arrive on their own.
Some mornings you have to drag them here yourself.

--Vera