For Dadu

Poem

You will find me breathing

Inside of small daily places.

When your morning routine

Sighs in banality, look for me

In a stone bathtub filled with water,

A crowing bird on the sill,

In a whiff of chocolate hazelnut spread

Thickly on a toasted bread,

Look for my remembered shape

In the songs on the radio

In the static on the television

In the cold of the refrigerator

You will hear me saying,

Another day has broken

Like the yellow yolk of morning.

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