July 3rd, the Dawn

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Contributor: Brian Baumgarn

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Friday dawn.
Thick, mist-laden fog.
Clinging. Gliding syrupy
slow over the city
on silent gray feet.
Stretching its arms and legs.
Rising slowly.
Gathering its golden
potential ni the east.
Bidding night's deep shadows
to rest and sleep.
Brown, cottontail rabbits
nibble a meal of
dew-laden grass.
Robin, sparrow, and finch
trill morning song.
Colorfully unformed sentinels.
standing their post atop
a row of gnarled fence posts.
Hungry, seeking food, yet
singing at their labor.
Cricket symphony.
Ancient etude and aria.
Pure song, flowing
from crescendo to diminuendo.
The sonority of night-song
fading into reminiscence
in the gathering light.
Brief echo and encore. Fini.

July 3/The Dawn
Free Verse

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65 year old grandfather working with developmentally disabled men. Writing again after many years. Writing and reading poetry lead to serenity.


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