Mick
Pewter Dawn
I wondered if I'd lose my way,
Abroad at dawn on pewter day -
Entombed in shades of brown and gray,
And once my long walk had begun,
If winter's shy prodigal sun
Would be observed by anyone.
Abroad at dawn on pewter day -
Entombed in shades of brown and gray,
And once my long walk had begun,
If winter's shy prodigal sun
Would be observed by anyone.
My footfalls crunched the brittle snow,
And slid on ice hidden below.
Yet, onward I had vowed to go,
Despite the pale bone-chilling haze,
Which haunted by the sun's weak rays,
Whispered light in little ways.
Then faint cascades, refracted light,
Gleamed and glowed, in wavelets bright
That shined and shimmered in my sight.
Despite its aspect, frightening,
I pierced that curtain shimmering,
And heard light's liquid crystals sing.
The sun's sweet song caressed my eyes;
It's shining chorus filled the skies,
With fiery fanfare for sunrise -
At which I gasped a startled yawn,
And noticed how completely gone
Was wintry, early, pewter dawn.
Mick McKellar
February 2008
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