Morning’s borrowed light
slides in unasked,
a soft spill across the floorboards,
easy as breath on a cool pane.

Mourning’s borrowed light
comes barrowed in,
uncasked from whatever vessel
kept it sealed till now—

a gentle run that steadies

over the greaves the heart still wears
for the one who grieves,
a release that settles the chest,
making the weight briefly workable.

.