The first tiny sliver of the crescent moon,
a sign that the dark night is over.
But like most things, darkness has a cycle,
it comes in waves.
The dark night will come again.
But maybe when it does,
there will be a lamp to light my way,
someone to hold me through the night,
keeping me warm with whispered promises
to stay until the end.
And maybe this time, they will.
There was evening,
and there was mo(u)rning.
The first day.