Morning at Shaw Island


(After Jane Kenyon)


Let the distant foghorn


 while songbirds chatter us awake

Let fiery chariots of the east


 on gray expanses

 of opaque glass ocean

Let all who will


 wipe the sleep from rested eyes

Notice each sore muscle


 into damp clothing

 as a new fire crackles in the stove

Let morning come


Let the gentle


 of a passing boat

 drift away into distant sunshine

Let pink clouds


 allowing golden sun to


 over fallen leaves

Let dances of shadows


 rustling of diurnal creatures

 as they begin

 to discover new edibles

Let morning come


Let the hum and bustle

 of day workers


 as they gossip another boat

 into the dock

 while they mingle their banter

with the song of the ferry

Let the crisp cool air

alive with salt sea


 awaken every pore as we hike along

 a new day

Let morning come


 to the tides of the bay

 the ripple of the wind

 over grassy meadows

 to the blossoms opening

their petals

 to sea life hidden underneath

 azure platforms

 perceiving watery diffuse light

 to the gliding of the seal

 the eagle

 the wide eyed doe

 Let morning come


The days stretch summer long

 softening into evenings


 by crimson sunsets

 bringing in the brightness

of a thousand stars

A bonfire


The island will slowly take of its colors

 put them away into cedar chests

 Retreat into patchwork quilt rest

 counting on tomorrow

 knowing all who trust in sleep

 that morning will come




~ by dianeklammer on March 1, 2013.

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