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Morning Vessel

Dawn exhales through the open window,
unfolding the last of the dream.
The bottle remains unshaken,
a spine of light and glass.

Now the table casts its honest shadow,
no longer pretending.
The glass beside it gleams
with the stillness of a thought realized.

The sea outside is the same color as silence.
Light passes through everything,
and even truth feels transparent.

I lift the glass,
its cool rim certain, yet tender
and in that moment,
I taste the echo of night,
the ghost of thirst still whispering,
You made me real.

- Richard A. Yeung