first sunrise

she dressed in black
like always
in her
cool dark room.
I lay on her bed
fully clothed
with sunglasses on
as the licked blue dawn
reared
on America.
she
shut the light
and we walked downstairs.
we snaked from the carport
and I drove into
my first sunrise
in 10 years.
the sun was sluggish
small
and angry.
the morning news on the radio
painful
and obvious.
I took her hand and we drove into it
lost
together
like this
in America.