Dance at Dawn

The edge of dawn
Big dipper fading fast
The moon still holds it's own
Fog slowly creeps across the field
Hint of pink in a sky of deep blue fading to black
The air hold it's breath in anticipation
The fog seems an adversary
Obscures first dawn sign
And masks the scape in milky white
The moon still holds it's own
Ringed in an eerie glow
The sky pales a hue of orange
Pastel through the fog
The mist flexes, tenses as it prepares
The world seems small
A bit of grass and a few trees
Encompassed in white
An island
Such a peaceful place for a battle
No hint of stars, they have succumbed a while ago
Fading quietly into the light
Dawn brightens yet again
The moon still holds it's own
Seeming only a witness
As he smiles, out of harms way
First sign of fear as the fog gives some ground
Colours return that were not noticed gone
Splashes of yellow, of green and of red
Reminders of fall
Dawn's hero approaches
Prepared to engage
Fog digs in ready to stand
A lance of light flashes through the tree tops
Revealing a roiling in the air
Fog is not so quiet as expected
The sun breaks through
Dazzling bright, glorious gold
Something unexpected
The fog glows white
Unabashed and proud
Where is the fight?
The earth returns to normal
Shafts of warm light through branches
Golden mantel about the sun
The mist moves and dances in the light
The moon smirks from above
He knew all along


I was not going to even write anything on this morning as I was going out for a run. So I started a little jotting to remind me another time to write something about the dawn. I still don't know why I stayed and watched, curiousity I guess. This actually started out as a battle between the dawn and the dark. As I wrote the dawn unfolded before me and the fog was not going to be a factor as it did not exist at first. I didn't even know why the moon showed up so many times until the end, cagey fellow that moon.

This is one of the very few poems that I consciously wrote...one of three I think. I still have not done anything to it other than group or split some lines and I am sure it needs some punctuation to delineate some of the ideas expressed...I hate to sprinkle periods and commas throughout though. I could stand to resort a couple of lines to smooth the flow a bit too. Another time.

The run was nice. Trail running is my favourite but I tend to overdo it as it is so enjoyable to get lost in the bush. I had an owl for company that morning, interesting fellow named Wilbur who gave me some very good advice . . . but that is a nother story.

Jeff.