In what will be an occasional series, I’ll be taking some of the poetry I’m creating, editing and refining and posting it for a wider audience. This piece is one of over seventy that have emerged from Kim Moore and Clare Shaw’s January Writing Hours.

Have a restful and reflective Sunday.


Morning

I am beginnings of bright, 
cold day
night before now embers, burnt away
sitting, cooling in the grate
knowing that their fire has served its task.

I am detritus of what passed 
between
wood and sky, fire and air
two spaces, different days 
aware
significance, 
progression, marked in place.

This is epiphany, changes begins
different viewpoints come to bear
fallow land, for years, will now begin
growth, 
emergent happiness from truth.

I was that thing before,
now I am not
those moments taken, buried 
forgot: fresh fuel of effort 
transformed into joy
morning’s optimism,
as then, sun breaks through.

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