What a beautiful sunrise this morning as the rain ended . . .
With the scuttering sounds of insects,
And then transforms, shifts shapes,
Becomes the quietest of creatures:
Crawling, translucent spiders,
Confused in a maze of reflections,
Their bodies like molten glass
And leaking their watery webs.
But stay, watch awhile with me. . .
The sky's first fingers of colors
Arrange the crumbling darkness
And move it beyond our reach:
A trembling tint that deepens
And opens, even as we watch;
The air a blanket of pink satin
That covers the stars, one by one.
Poetry by countryfog
Read 544 times
Written on 2010-12-04 at 15:12
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Dawn
Rain comes ticking on the windowWith the scuttering sounds of insects,
And then transforms, shifts shapes,
Becomes the quietest of creatures:
Crawling, translucent spiders,
Confused in a maze of reflections,
Their bodies like molten glass
And leaking their watery webs.
But stay, watch awhile with me. . .
The sky's first fingers of colors
Arrange the crumbling darkness
And move it beyond our reach:
A trembling tint that deepens
And opens, even as we watch;
The air a blanket of pink satin
That covers the stars, one by one.
Poetry by countryfog
Read 544 times
Written on 2010-12-04 at 15:12
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email Print text|
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Nils Teodor |
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John Ashleigh |
