Sunrise with Sea Monsters

by Nancy Jo Cullen

The day opens its gaping mouth,

(It is as reasonable to ask why not as it is to ask why.

My father said that and he is dead now thirty-three years,

my oldest brother nearly nine, my mother eight, my former partner ten,

and my sister’s son, just three years.

But you could just as well say for all eternity.)

the leaves vibrate, bracing for their abscission.

We are so tiny.