Monthly Archives: August 2016

The Quietest Hour

I savor the morning’s quietest hours
When the moon is pried from the fingers of night
And dawn creeps along the horizon
Shooing away the darkness, whose time has past
The heavens transform
From star speckled gloom to azure canvas
Revealing possibility
The birth of purpose
Motion sings the dirge of inertia
An echoing foot fall into the unknown

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