DAWN, MIDWINTER

Dawn, midwinter

slowly the meagre light waxes

and I’m grateful

as I pad about my byre;

I remember civilization –

that rushing vortex of light

and noise

and constant bleating;

it had its strengths

yet still it died.

I set about my tasks

the stations I must pass

before I break my fast.

DAWN, MIDWINTER

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