the morning is cut
from tissue, dipped first in mist
then laid down in strips
fishing boat moon hauls
in the catch, silver bellies
last remnants of day
the dawn wasn't sure
it was beautiful; the world
held up a mirror
the spider makes a
harp of the morning and plays
a song of sunlight
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Fantastic photos!
ReplyDeleteLooks like we both had fun May Day morning: https://cliddesden.wordpress.com/
You write these thoughts so beautifully
ReplyDeleteSo tender and yet expansive
ReplyDeleteHeart was moved to read.
Thankyou