It never ceases
to amaze,
this gold of
Apollonian rays.
Salad days
are with us yet
in 24-karat
dawn vignette.
With thanks to Shakespeare
and to photographer Emily Berg Baine.
Tag Archives: dawn
May 5.20: Coping
Spring exhales in hues
so pale
it turns the dawn
to merest veil;
even bones
in shroud aurorean
seem to join
in morning paean.
March 29.20: Coping
Last night the lightning
tore up the sky;
now remnants gather
and wind sweeps them by,
face-planting the jonquils
into the mud,
ripping the petals
from yesterday’s bud.
No cheer to be had
from this morning’s dawn;
I don’t think I’ll keep calm
but I will carry on.
Saluting the British slogan which has served so well —
until we don’t WANT to keep calm.
October 13.19
When fire heralds the day
and the lava of dawn boils over the world
what urgency seethes
to be heeded.
May 23.19
Doesn’t purple burn?
Doesn’t it melt
languid
into gold?
Apollo stokes
the coals of dawn
gilding the sky
with alchemy.
May 3.19
The exquisite
revels in time
like dawn
savoring its own ephemera
mindfully Elysian.
Disconnections: September 16.18
Pond pixels at dawn
play at reflecting
rippling jigsaw
its own dawn confecting.
Disconnections: July 24.18
Some of us know it
from school days gone by
the rarified glow
of a holycard sky.
Angels and saints
no laggards allowed
canopied ever
by holycard cloud
its edges alive
with a peachy-gold hue
it had to be thus —
plain white wouldn’t do.
It all seemed marshmallowy
pretend, and ideal,
but I see it right now
undeniably real.
A word about holycards: they were tokens of acknowledgement given out in Catholic schools ever so long ago. They all depicted role models. Kind of like baseball cards but more flowy. And with lilies. In that time a coveted laurel.
Connections: February 18.18
Of the dawn I asked
Do you burn with frost or fire?
Is this the scald
of ice or ire?
Are you flushed with fever
reflected pain
or with northern lights
of frigid disdain?
