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Morning the Victor

by David Kilby | Dec 7, 2017 | Poetry | 0 comments

Lately I’ve been befriending the morning,
For more than a sunrise and a few quiet moments;
First light tells me an unfinished story
Of man and nature’s atonement.
The muses wait in the morning mist
Extracting the best flavors from our earthy past,
Giving to all the light of truth:
A day in its youth.

But now each day is darker than the last,
So darker is the brew in my frosting glass,
And frost isn’t welcome on my humble shoes,
As was the florescent autumn dew.
What isn’t shrouded by the early dark
Is covered by the leafy shards
Of the mirroring summer morning trees
That revealed who we are.

Am I intoxicated or is it really this way?
It seems I’m losing daylight every day.
Now, sweet dawn, to taste your elixir
I wait for you and cherish you more,
Contemplating how light is the victor
In the beginning and has the last word.
As the winds of autumn change everything,
There’s a promise shining through every beam.

It’s only for a while, this seasonal blight.
And I laugh all the more since the darker the night
The more vulnerable it is to the break of Light.


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