Sunrise over Green Canyon (poem)

The dawn draws a long yawn of yarn along the canyons of my room,
a strong comet on the southern wall,
a freefall. It starts out small, horizon-like
and becomes a lawn of ocean glow
beneath a starry sky.
The sky is white paint pushed up into a corner, gray heights;
the stars are donut sprinkles scattered
in the fog of reflected light.