in the hour just before morning

Photo: V. Slotto

in the hour just before morning

flowers close tight, their buds still chilled
by frost-threatened air, huddle together
in leaf-nests, await sun’s sweet warm breath.

robins stir, tune their voices—magnificent
orchestral artists preparing to greet morn
in symphonic wakening trills. harmony.

dew prepares to glisten in spider’s web,
on blades of grass—dons her rainbow hues,
ready to dazzle the wakening world.

within the womb of an old house an old lady
nestles ‘neath a down-filled comforter,
pulls it snug to cradle the aching toll of her years

down the hall the coffee maker gurgles to life,
infuses the home with scents of comfort.
the husband arouses, stretches
while the dog shakes sleep away.

a crescent moon slips silently in the west,
hiding behind snow-covered peaks
while sun reaches out, pulls herself up
on horizon’s ledge and peeks.

at a distance, the long, long, short, long blast
of the six o’clock train strikes a final
exclamation mark on the day’s opening act.

Linking to dVerse Poets’ Open Link Night where creativity and fellowship flow. Please join us with a poem of your own.

The title an excerpt from a poem  by Mary Oliver…which one? I don’t remember.