Jack Scott writes

Dawn's Lids are Sealed

No light presages day.
Sea and sky are pressed together,
seamless, tight
with no glimmer of the sun
to penetrate the clinging night:
lids glued together
with sticky sleep.

No fanfare for the fireball;
the sun has stopped -
on boycott or strike?
All dawns have sun behind them,
unlike billboards
of no interest on the other side,

Somewhere above the earth
our heater is still lit, 
an article of faith;
we can not see it.

This is inconvenience,
certainly not catastrophe;
why not pretend it’s fun
and keep the head lights on.

I retain its image 
behind my closed eyes,
taking comfort from its ember 
a thousand million miles away.

Come estimated evening,
night’s bloodless lids
still clench so tight
there is no crack. 

Before Dawn -- Sofya Mirvis