une petite renaissance

`



A fog settles upon these shoulders

the cape that sweeps across the plains

the biting wind sings its wailing dirge

whose fingers pluck and scrape and snap



Once upon a breath so dreary

the banal landscape stripped away

a peril hunched in fitful slumber

morning promise not guaranteed




When curtains part with golden shafts

and birdsong fills the early air

the dormant heart arises thankful

another chance to make a start





`