Dawn

The sky like a blue conch shell

The sky of daybreak

A kitchen—still not dry—

cleansed with wood-ash

A saddle quern

pitch black with a touch of red saffron

as if washed with it

or as if someone had rubbed

                  red clay chalk on a writing slate

or as if in blue water floated

                   a fair 

                          shimmering body

And ...

                   when the magic ends,

                   the sun rises.