Morning

Shapes on the horizon, black before the sky,
Rising against daybreak, taking form beneath the light.
Lurching through the silence, in patterns out of step,
Along forever's edge, where the sun pulls forth from night.

Eternity rests in hedgerows, waiting out the frost,
Dawn leaves malice dormant, back amongst the trees.
Shapes on the horizon - the haystack, house, and hare
Rising against daybreak, with little help from me.

by James Atkins

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