Lucia Cherciu
The Miracle of Dusk
After Maximilien Luce, “Quay at Camaret, Finistere”
To welcome the promises of the morning. Before the rest of the world
wakes up, to make a list of all the splendors of light: hope
at daybreak is like a boat ready to leave as another one
arrives: gifts of faith and consistent reward. The march of summer.
Who is braver: those to wake up for a journey far away
or those who see them off, standing to watch them depart?
The dots of every moment: seconds that make up
a necklace of beads. What we take on the journey
and what remains. A sister who leaves. One who waits.
The one who risks it all and the one who prays every night:
somewhere in the world, already aurora. Someone
washes her face, combs her hair in front of the mirror
and tries to save the icon of the second. Somewhere,
my sister looks out of the window, her heart
quickening. Out of breath, she follows a silhouette
in the distance, only to realize it’s only a stranger.