Poetry | Stories | Photography
Persimmon Dawn
Gloves of wool
a beanie with flying cats
layers of clothing
A Mugachino
startled frost-covered grass
breath shapes
The Winter dawn
Persimmon and soft blue layers
many birds sing
Morning dance
coffee smells mix with the dawn
rolling on the frost
An empty feeling,
the loss of another dawn;
you prefer twilight.
The moon’s outline in the sky
tells my body it’s too early for another day.
Trees once danced in numbers,
now sparse; replaced by houses, people.
The wind whistles down from the hills,
moving through my nightie, blowin’ my hair.
Forgotten clouds appear shyly,
creeping closer to the moon, hiding her outline.
The darkness and the light interweave
leaving strange shapes and shadows at dawn.
Whispers from the shadows and the wind
call me back to something known, yet unknown.
I retreat inside, knowing well I should have listened.
In the early light,
as the trees move so slowly,
we sit still and tight.
solitary thoughts
night moves on
awaiting dawn
thinking of you
trees standstill
a bird sings alone
C & K 