Sunday, January 23, 2022

As sleep departs


As sleep departs

fields lie in flooded mist,

shrouded and unkissed,

by the buoyant light

that sails upon its blanket.

From the hill we watch

the ebbing opacity

and greet treetop wraiths

as their fingertips

probe through,

petting the morning.

There is no urgency here,

no rush for rescue,

no fear of loss;

just the gentle caress

of waking.

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