Early Morning (Poem)



Early morning, a liminal time,

When the tenebrific skies seem poised

On some obscure threshold.

The air is quiet;

No birds yet sing to herald the day;

No wind or rain disturbs the transitory stillness.

The moment awaits any assignation of meaning.

For a brief few breaths,

The world is simply as it is.

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Filed under Poetry - Poems, Re-Blogs and Great Blogs

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