Forty winks and now
we see you,
until we don’t
lest we are mistaken
we have awakened.
The sun stays hidden
as we pretend
night is at an end,
and a new day begun.
The winking does not end.
The winking does not bend
the light enough to hide its glare
crouching low behind the clouds.
Would it be wrong to open eyes wide
on days like these
bathed in cloudy skies?
Seeing truth shining bright
might justice be the finest light.
Stop winking.
Dawn
The dawn!
The dawn!
How dare Sun
show his face.
I’ve learned to live
outside his grace,
to fend for myself,
to bend and scrape
a life beyond his space.
The ice has packed
my heart contained
in frozen lace
where it feels safe.
Now, Sun would melt
my dreams away.
Filed under Uncategorized
Busy days boost the sun
however faint his gaze.
No time to moan
his wandering ways
over the banks of snow.
Sun warms the heart
and soothes the soul
even when he strays
too far south
to take the time
to light our way.
Busy days ease our wait
for sun’s return
To grace us with his kiss
and hold our heart in his.
Filed under POETRY
annarino writes 