Colors recede into the waters fall,
casting the depths into shadow.
Singed fingers of sunlight
echo across the last faint reflections
settling into the corners of the day.
Twilight fills in and pushes past the horizon
until at last, the gleam of a silvered corona
is seen in the western sky,
floating in deepest celestial blue-
the quiet of the slender crescent
as she gently cradles the old moon in her arms.
We woke to deep fog.
Air so thick with moisture, water droplets formed on everything. We were drenched just taking our early morning walk with Theo.
As the clouds began to lift and the morning began to brighten, the brilliantly clear and LOUD song of a wren pierced the misty air.
As more of the fog receded and the sky became brighter, the louder her song. She was very proud of her effort and continued in full throated triumph until the sun had broken through and the skies revealed the beautiful sapphire blue of late winters day.
small brown wren
in glorious song
singing as if she alone is responsible
for the rising of the sun