I woke, thinking that it was night,
but it was dawn.
Through the casement an even light
had settled on

Familiar things – mirror, brush, comb
were timeless now.
You were asleep, and still unknown
to that light. How

We had come there, I did not know.
The mirror showed
Only mist, and the lake below,
where we had rowed.

Jared Carter's most recent book, Darkened Rooms of Summer: New and Selected Poems, is from the University of Nebraska Press. He lives in Indiana. Read other articles by Jared.