New Year Sunrise
Post-drought the winter dawning creeps
across my coarse and brindled lawn,
a molten ocean snail-like seeps
and spreads its early morning yawn.
A lambent thread it first appeared
to rise and fall with rooftops' pitch.
Across the frost it persevered,
this aura of an angel which
has fixed me to this gilded spot
with silent prayers in misted breath,
the fuchsia-ed clouds the sky's begot
above a saffron-laureled wreath.
The first of January wakes
effulgent as the new year breaks.
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