Shot at Dawn
Wednesday, July 15th, 2009file:///Users/karen/Desktop/skyisbluer.AVI
Morning page notes shot at dawn. I like the sound at this time. Particularly in the city. Humans get pushed back. Leave the world for dreams. The wind has a time of its own. Before the birds. The elements are revealed. You can feel alone at dawn in a good way. Not lonely. That’s the difference. You’re stripped bare. Still in the half world. Even if you’re still up the sky, wind, sun, moon take over. Change colour, brighten. Wind rustles through foliage. It’s the sound and the rapidity of change. It’s like watching the earth age. Speeded up and slowed down at the same time. Time at its most naked, when it can’t be distorted by clocks. Anguish and joy move at the same rate.
Karen McCarthy Woolf was born in London to an English mother and Jamaican father. Her poetry pamphlet The Worshipful Company of Pomegranate Slicers was selected as a New Statesman Book of the Year. She is also an editor.
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