Daylight comes up
over a landscape
of sheets and pillows
and clothing folded neatly
last night to wait
until this morning
to be tucked away. 

You remember
how long ago
you saw mountains
that at sunrise looked
just like this room does
right now.

It’s time to get up.
Those clothes aren’t going 
to put themselves away.

You rise from bed
with gratitude;
being unable to escape from
memories is how you begin
to pass from the world
and you wake up grateful
for memories,
however mundane,
that are yet to be made.