About an hour after sunrise, there’s
an old lingering air, an unmistakable
morning halo, and the fog falls deep
into the fields. It drips frozen air.
This is my favourite time to walk
quietly amongst the still of etched webs
and spider lairs, to breathe in the copper
scents of leaves weaving susurrus notes,
and root myself in sleeping colours of spring.
To walk into a day is to awaken from night.
But a cup of coffee works, too.
Written for MLM #36
words: halo falls deep orchard etched copper susurrus root