
Venice at Dawn – Photo from Pinterest
sinews of city
in the hour of sunrise
find veneration
From my books City of Pawns and Riverthink
Venice at Dawn – Photo from Pinterest
sinews of city
in the hour of sunrise
find veneration
From my books City of Pawns and Riverthink
“Breath of Dawn” by Anna Armona
pieces of sky
rise up through the trees
carry light of the morning
awaken the forest
towering pines
stretch their arms
mountains yawn with
first murmurs of birdsong
brown moose and red deer
arise slowly from
soft-needled beds
already the fox and the hare
wide awake and alert
to the scent of each other
cold rivers emerge from
their hiding to take on
the clean brilliant glints
of another new sun
yes another new dawn
all the sights and the sounds
of circadium signal a
promising day in the offing
what more of a reason
could creatures like men
ever find to be thankful
(originally posted November 2015)
“Nightfall” by Trevor Jessop
some nights roll in
grab the ground
and refuse to let go
cop an attitude
daylight be damned
fuck the fiction of sunshine
its central conceit
that illusion of blue
when the truth is
the sky has no color at all
the bright light of the day
so pretty with pretense
serves only to show
ugly patterns of scars
the grim record of wounds
men inflict upon time
stark behaviors revealed
in the skin of their sin
worst of all is the cruelty
inherent in sunrise
its sharp yellow edges
with wanton abandon
decapitate dreams
murder sleep in its beds
night would never
give showcase to shame
never sully the lull
of a satiny moonglow
a softer world cast
in more delicate deep
chiaroscuro existence
a filtered reality set up
as time and as place
in which even the
artists of war take their rest
some nights roll in
in full rigor
of righteousness
make valiant stand
hold horizons as prisoners
intending that soul-weary
damaged mankind
sleep the sleep of the dead
for as long as it needs
to gain ethical healing
awake and emerge
all the better ingrained
with a newborn nobility
ah but alas in the end
notwithstanding the
strength of its virtue
sweet darkness of nightfall
must too soon and always
succumb to the blaze
of a merciless dawn
“Morning Heat” by Georgiana Romanovna
Bandits
trash can tipped over
wilted bones of a salad
raccoons on the prowl
Quarrelsome
fluttering loudly
eyelids assert themselves
argue with the dawn
Winter Garden
hostas cut to the quick
shoulders hunker and shiver
dreaming of snowmelt
(these were all originally posted January 2014)
“Dawn at the Pond” by Karen Gillis Taylor
on the rise of a morning
impossible dreams
gather promise
as they lift from the
rumpled remains of a night
upon brightening bands
of an opportune sky
and the dreamer awakens
his future surprisingly cast
in array of new colors
excited by light in a way
never heretofore
hoped for or seen
“Forest Sunrise” by Do Olesovic
(Originally posted June 2013)
dawn crawls through the forest
pushing first glow between dense
hands of pine boughs and
flat fans of oak leaves
slipping onto the porch and over the sill
to settle itself in my unsleeping eyes
“Wolf Abstract 3618” by Marcia Baldwin
eyelids threatened by dawn
rapid quivers excited by fears
thence unbidden dead wraiths
whence the friends of the moon
count the souls who were born
and must die in this ominous hour
these brief fateful minutes
disowned by the night and the day
deep with danger of unruly minds
free to roam ghostly precincts
within this bleak crevice of time
loud with wordless assault by
the hair-raising howl of the wolf
“Night” by Justyna Kopania
edge of light
slashes time
a remorseless
soft blade
dripping days
upon stones
of my past
bleeding life
from the sky
letting darkness
invade and
seep into
the wound
with no hope
of a healing
no soothing
dull scars to
give finish to
pain of this
ultimate night
all my dawns
have been used
more’s the pity
so many
were wasted
“Early Dawn” by Jose Favian Sosa
night slips under the sash
cool blue unguent of moonglow
balming the wounds of the day
sleep in its mission of healing
rejuvenates muscle and mind
making ready for onslaught of
rage from a dubious dawn
“Sunrise in the Harbor” by Leonid Afremov
dawn is the hour
mosaic of morning
the rising time
Writer Lynne Sargent
Poetry Puttering by Pax & Company
Sometimes everything has to be enscribed across the heavens so you can find the one line already written inside you. Sometimes it takes a great sky to find that small, bright, and indescribable wedge of freedom in your own heart. David Whyte
"drink from the well of your self and begin again" ~charles bukowski
no dust here
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I am where the valleys are deep, the mountains are high, and the wind moans through trees...