Morning Tears

Morning tears
First spring snow
Round bright moon
Silent house

I awoke this silent blue frost morning
From a dream of lost love,
Walking along a windblown sea, storm
Building in clouds of gold and purple
Tower above green waves straked in living white
A mist of rain falling soft on cold black stones
Her hair free in the thieving wind, our laughter
Like bird song, like old lost lullabies.
This morning the brilliant moon hangs
Like a silver coin, high above dawn clouds
Warming to icy rose. Sun coming up, light
Cascading down on first spring snow, no shadows
In this soft bitter sunrise. The silver-coin
Moon woke me from dreams of vanished
Love, coming through curtains, golden
Clouds veiling the light like her honey hair
Soft over my face, this cold, bright, shadowless
Blue frost dawn.

Author: Duncan MacNae

Exiled Gael, scion of the Dust Bowl, dweller within Divine Grace, admirer of mountains, I have made my peace with trout and the starlings. Looking for a river and healing trees. duncanmacduncan5@gmail.com View all posts by Duncan MacNae