Grey pre-dawn light
Twinkling stars fade slowly
into paling night sky
Waves break on the shore
Seagrass whispers to the wind
My breath plumes into chilly air
I shiver and pull my coat tighter
Colours and shapes take definition
The slow passing of time
Brings all into view
Muted but there
The first fingers of pink and gold
touch the far horizon
And excruciatingly slowly
The sliver of sun appears
Expands
And swells into the waiting sky

I passed a quiet hour today,
Watching people in a Café.
The studious girl with her homework spread,
Glancing sideways at the clique she'd rather join instead.
The middle-aged woman licking lips as she swiped,
Was it tinder, shoes or pastries on her notepad flying right?
The couple not speaking so engrossed in their phones,
Only acknowledging each other when it was time to go home.
The trio of yummy mummies, dressed carefully to ****,
Smudging lipstick on caramel lattes - politely competing to pay the bill.
I watched them all quietly,
Each tableau a one-act play.
On my last sip the curtain fell,
I rose and paid. Went my own way.

Ophelia rips still-living leaves from bowed trees.
The starkness of Winter will come early this year.
I watch them fly; copper, silver, green.
Cut off in their prime.
The unacknowledged tragedies of the hurricane.