Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
At Dawn my mind is fuzzy and bleary. Whenever I see the cold blue light from the rising sun I'm reminded of stories I've heard of charges, raids, escapes and deaths all happening or planned for this time. How could such productivity occur at such an early stage in the existence of a day? It does feel like there is so much possibility in the air unlike sunset; which is better for reflection, sunrise only sets a sleepy mind in motion. I so rarely wake up this early and more occasionally I go to sleep this early... but on those few and far between days of early arisal I feel reflective and ready, perhaps, for a plunder, sneak attack, or beheading-- but only after breakfast.
0
Feb 23, 2011
Feb 23, 2011 at 12:55 PM UTC
Dawn
At Dawn my mind is fuzzy and bleary. Whenever I see the cold blue light from the rising sun I'm reminded of stories I've heard of charges, raids, escapes and deaths all happening or planned for this time. How could such productivity occur at such an early stage in the existence of a day? It does feel like there is so much possibility in the air unlike sunset; which is better for reflection, sunrise only sets a sleepy mind in motion. I so rarely wake up this early and more occasionally I go to sleep this early... but on those few and far between days of early arisal I feel reflective and ready, perhaps, for a plunder, sneak attack, or beheading-- but only after breakfast.
Written by
Feb 23, 2011
Feb 23, 2011 at 12:55 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem