Before Dawn

This morning, I watched a fox slip through the morning air, through the glow of my car’s headlights, and into the darkness that lay beyond.

Now, let me ask you this. The poem shared below possesses no deep meaning, no wisdom. It simply hopes to paint a picture, etch an image. Is that ok? Is it worth the read?

Image result for fox at night

Before Dawn

In this dim,
the fox,
flame draped
with shadow,

darts across
the still road,
beneath
the guardrail

into the glen
where autumn
crackles beneath
its haste

like old paper,
and the darkness
sheathing
the trees

opens,
a thick curtain,
welcomes
it home.

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7 thoughts on “Before Dawn

  1. Your poems are like viewing pieces of artwork. No different. It’s just that you paint with words. But you’ve asked that question before. What’s up with that? Is there something you feel you need to be doing otherwise?

    Liked by 1 person

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