Dawn Storm
On dawns gray steps
small birds carry seeds of light
in their beaks -
they sing
among the still shaking spears
of a passing storm.
It was here
that the sky reared up
like a maddened horse,
here it was
that black clouds
raged and rumbled.
The morning for a while
is now a fragile nest
but a nest, nevertheless.
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2022
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