Dawning

• Tongxin Sycamore, Grade 11
• Poetry
• 2022

At dawning, he wakes to Mum’s silvery melody,
the lyrics his name, a crescendo as she sets
the fireplace alight, flames waltzing, then her
snuggly fingers gently tickling his neck.
Outside, Dad brings him cocoa (steam still
rising to the sweep of red and yellow) and
stirs. The blushing marshmallow melts to
form a swirl like the Pinwheel Galaxy,
one constant in a forever-expanding universe.
The zephyr carries the smell of growing carrot roots
up his nostrils, sweet in the back of his throat. He picks
a dandelion, feels the soft pappus at his fingertips, and
blows… watches the school of butterflyfish swim across
the orange coral, to the far horizon, where the atomic
tangerine meets the cadmium green. “Make a wish, son.
Make a wish.”