The Auburn Sunrise

Whatever sufferings we have stretch between two places
 filled with light and dust, trees and the living
 the voices of the displaced dead
 become the way that early grapes taste
 or the feeling of being alone in a crowd on a train
 as though the auburn sunrise cut through your fears
 and skin. And you are beautiful now
 Everything is beautiful and he is dying
 she is running
 and you are walking.