Sunday Morning Silence

It is a December morning,
a Sunday morning silence has descended over all.
The street outside my window is quiet.
A frost has painted everything white.
Winter is now getting us in its grip.
I sit here quietly contemplating
at the brightness of this new day
as my breathe creates little mists
with every breathe I take
and the Sunday morning silence
hangs over everything
awaiting for things to wakeup
and greet another day.

7 December 2008

poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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