The sunrise spoke to the light hidden
in the bricks and the trees and
the forms on the earth began
to glow, pink and alive to
the adversity of an awakened day.
The sun skipped a little higher
and the blue tones sang
of morning and ending and
possibility. And then dawn
was over, and it was Wednesday.
1 comment:
I love your poem, but surely you already knew that. You are great at imagery.
Bonnie
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