Winter Dawn
       

Beyond the barely opened white shutters
the winter dawn spawns a blue light
shifting like slow-moving sand in the desert,
from soft gray and gold to sharp white —

as if the snow had still not made up its mind to fall,
the clouds, not yet decided to withdraw
into the infinite tomb of the sky, and the moon
had refused to yield to the sun.

The darkness and shadows of longing
gather at the threshold, accumulate into signs
of the coming day and willful world.
Better to close my eyes and drift away.

Tweet

Copyright © 2019 Richard Milazzo All rights reserved
from Oracle Bones
Publisher Name
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission