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A Dew Drooping Dawn
A reluctant dawn
predicts a heel dragging day.
The sun slinks away from the sky
with dawn cast eyes.
Pond ducks swim slow,
as amnesia paddles them
in nowhere circles.
Lead tinted tears,
plop from stiff trees,
or hang as chill,
metallic drops of
melting air.
Some early hours
must drip-dry
all over your eyes
creating a lip-heavy
sag,
until someone
you don't like the look of,
shouts:
"Good morning,"
Copyright ©
Eric Ashford
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