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JUST BEFORE DAWN
I awoke, but the dawn was no where to be found
Moonlight however, held sway against this fabric
Of night; gibbous and silent, observing the sound
That sleep had woven into a somnolent city cocoon
I sighed, since the dawn was no where to be found
Not knowing the fullness of this plight i stumbled
Out of bed, no qualms, to bare feet on the ground
For such is that nameless void, in-between-stage
Whereby star and moon this city had been bound
Grackle, Tanager, Kiskadee, where are your songs
I mused, but the dawn was no where to be found
© gillena cox 2019 JUST BEFORE DAWN
how to construct The Fold poem
Poets United
Midweek Motif ~ Light
REVISIT
22 May 2019
Come on lttle one, we are all tired, get back to bed and try to go to sleep.
ReplyDelete😊thank you for dropping by Robin
ReplyDeleteMuch🖤love
Aw...dawn is in bird throat. Let them wake up first :)
ReplyDelete☺indeed Sumana, tha ks for dropping by
ReplyDeleteMuch🖤love
I like those mornings where you wake up on the cusp of everything. Even before the birds begin their day. It's like all the world is your own. Quiet and peaceful and waiting for dawn.
ReplyDeleteThank you for your appreciation Susan
DeleteMuch🖤love
Waiting for birdsong and morning is such a sleepy time.......before one has to Get Busy!
ReplyDeleteThank you for your appreciation Sherry
DeleteMuch🖤love
Birdsong is my new alarm call, long before intended!!
ReplyDeleteThank you for your appreciation Eileen
DeleteMuch🖤love
"Not knowing the fullness of this plight i stumbled
ReplyDeleteOut of bed, no qualms . . . " OH! May we not have to enter that time for eons, if ever, may we have a false pause, a brief pause, and then may all start up again.
☺☺☺thanks for dropping by Susan
ReplyDeleteMuch🖤love
Like the repetition of dawn was nowhere to be found.
ReplyDeleteThanks for your appreciation Rajani
DeleteMuch🖤love
I’m often up when dawn is nowhere to be found, Gillena, so this poem really resonates with me. I love the moonlight holding sway ‘against this fabric of night’ and the repetition of the ‘ound’ sound, which is echoing and haunting, just like the time before the birds start to sing.
ReplyDeleteThank you for your appreciation Kim
ReplyDeleteMuch🖤love
Thanks for dropping by Rosemary
ReplyDeleteMuch🖤love
I love that predawn morning period. I find peace in the quiet, and in the fact that nothing has happened yet to screw up my day... I like this poem Gillena
ReplyDeleteThank you for your appreciation Rob
ReplyDeleteMuch🖤love