Poetry Thursday - At Dawn

at dawn, this summer morning,
a waning moon floats high in the cloudless
blue and lauds a perfect summer day,
one that will never come again in all
its sweetness and its fey perfume.

slow walkers in the early hours, we go along
together, paw and paw, through fragrant summer
yieldings of chicory, clover and golden daisies,
attended on our rambles by rhyming crickets,
by humming bees and dancing leaves

while around us, unseen but deeply felt
and loved, the world is breathing softly
in and out, all our voices falling together
into seamless light and tune and time.

Cate (me)