Thursday Poem - At Dawn

At dawn this morning, a waning moon

floating high in the cloudless blue,

graces 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

yieldings of chicory, clover and 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, many voices falling together

into seamless light and tune and time.

Cate (me)