February Sunrise

I was late for work but I have poetic excuses.



winter cemetery blues

me and the crows
and the trusty old oak
share the tumult
of a winter sunrise

i abandon my morning routine
to lean against the cemetery oak
to rest my hands on the trunk
to feel something solid

sheltered from icy gusts
i scan headstones with unfocused eyes
waiting for the transient joy
of sun clearing the hilltop

the wind blows harder
three crows cry
racing clouds radiate
the promise of daylight

me and the crows
and the shadowed gravestones
cold among the branches
the clouds fade first

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