Morning

Prevailing grey – the morning comes on cold
and luminous above the brooding trees,
a jagged line on the horizon. Here

the icy water laps the limestone bed
and overhead a hint of colour creeps
into the night sky. Soon the dawn will be

upon the drowsy fields, when on shy wings
the silent night has gone and busy day
comes slowly in, a show of blues and greens

and then there's sun upon my back – the grass
still slightly wet, I'll make my shivering way
across the meadow to the sparkling stream

and splash cold water in my sleepy face
the better to enjoy what comes my way,
wide-eyed and happy with this brilliant day.