At Break of Day
The foggy arms of morning caress me,
When first I venture outside my front door.
Vague glowing shadows of trees address me,
With wind-driven whispers across the moor.
The slowly retreating chill of the night,
Whose slender fingers grasp tenuously
At my face and hands, retreat at the bite
Of dawn's first rays seeking sinuously.
A touch of sun sets the ether aglow,
With brilliant warning of doom for the dew,
And pretty promise to warm my chateau --
To lift up my heart, and my strength renew.
Silent, I stand, to let my spirit pray,
And give thanks for my life at break of day.
Mick McKellar
August 2013
I love greeting the sun on a cool and foggy Copper Country morning. Everything glows with the promise of the approaching day, as the land wakes from the misty shadows of night.
Mick
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