Even in a situation I had once or twice,
begrudgingly dreamed myself in,
never anticipating the morphing from one state to another,
of contemplation to reality,
I no longer dread.
Even within the month that usually drags me to my knees,
I accomplish the impossible and turn my sight towards the sun,
golden hour still exists and dust still sways in its light.
And yes,
even with all of this,
unrequited circumstance,
my mind and body still dance.
A thought in mid-November air
