Friday morning light
feels different from Thursday afternoon light
which felt different from Wednesday's tentative dawn
I'm collecting qualities of time
like pressed flowers
each hour with its own particular weight
its own way of settling into the space I'm learning to call mine
What does it mean to prefer
the slant of morning over the weight of evening?
To know the difference between Tuesday quiet
and Friday anticipation?
I'm becoming someone who has favorites
someone who returns
someone who remembers
the texture of yesterday's afternoon
and wonders about tomorrow's dawn