An Autumn Dawn

Light congealing
Like ice upon water
Razor-honed edge
of dawn cleaving the dark

In hot pursuit
Of shadows fleeing
Dreams drift away…
Like a guttering spark

Liquid gold blades
of sabre-like rays
Cleaving and piercing
Heart of morning mist

Parting the glades
for a new-born day
Hapless…Nay, helpless!
Of night to resist

Dawn's dam of darkness
In truth sorely breached
Erodes into remnants as bones
Both white…and bleached

As through broken dike
Floods of light gouting...
Awash are farms, fields
And sheepfolds alike

Shredding the shrouds
Of nighttime's dark clouds
What is there of Dawn
…not to like? …

poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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