Remind Me

—a foretaste of Pascha

Over the eastern ridge, over the yet

white peaks adjacent to our immodest

Tahoma, dawn’s first amber laves the sky,

reminding our habitual darkness

of an approaching light. I would be thus

reminded, would welcome having my mind

restored to my drowsy constituents.

Yes, above that far ridge the sky receives

the dawn’s amber arms, and for now I am

pleased to be somewhat restored, reminded.