The Dawn Walker
The Dawn Walker
On the moor's curved edge
darkness cloaks the hills.
The stillness before daylight
hangs on the dawn's breath.
Through the grey silhouettes,
the sentries of trees,
a solitary walker steps
in the silence of a sleeping world.
No echoes down a valley hung with frost.
No bird song or motion
in the vacuum of a soundless world.
He walks through woods in the skeleton darkness.
The light begins to melt
the grey moor's edge.
He listens in silence,
sees the bright mist rising.
And, as the dawn erupts
on the smudged crimson sky,
he hears the skylark warbling,
hovering high above the hillside.
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