The Snap — Rachel Dacus

The Snap
My sleep is cut in half by a latch’s snap? 
What was that, a closing door? I look
around in the dim and quiet room. Perhaps
my beloved came in the night and took
a strand of my hair in his graceful hand,
transforming its dark tangles into gold.
Waking in brightness, I can understand
why the scarlet leaf cracks away, why old
seasons revolve to admit the new. Why should I dread
doors snapping shut, the clap of an incoming call,
an envelope’s rip?any harbinger ahead?
They are only the beat of coming awake. All
change opens into the immortal room
where pure light flashes across age-old gloom.