The Glass Dawn

A short poem on a winter morning

The Glass Dawn



the brutal cold frost cut across the morning view

death holds the leaves scattered thin across the ground.

looking out ahead, the chill touching the windowpane

the glass dawn approaching fast



the warmth within protecting and holding

the world frozen still and calm

the winter sun low and imminent spreading out

upon the fields

soon the frost will lift and leave

the glass dawn lost lost again