Shadow Land

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She is pleased

On inauspicious days,

Days when the sun rises so red

That you’d swear it’d been painted

With the blood of ten thousand cowards.

 

She rejoices

In the sharp, salt tang of treason;

She’s a city-slicker, picker of fights;

For her, valor is not a good enough reason,

And youth is the only worthy season.

 

She’s the one who sways our hips,

Licks our lips, sips

Her coffee as her eyes meet yours,

And she is like the moon,

Bright and bare,

And it is she

With whom you fall hopelessly in love;

I sometimes wonder –

Will you settle with me,

Or would you rather I surrender,
Wholly,

To she?

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Dawn Light, Dawn Bright

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Glorious daybreak,

And the city lay shining in the distance,

Further inland,

Miles from these golden shores,

Draped in the finery of dawn’s light –

Blindingly, beseechingly bright.

 

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Another Cloudless Morn

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Another cloudless morn,

The drops of dew glistening

In the pre-dawn light

Of the streetlamps standing sentinel high above us.

There is mist o’er the place

Where sand and shore are united once more,

Where blue meets gold as if for the first time;

Indeed, the sun will unfailingly rise,

Tomorrow, and very likely the day after, too,

And the dew will glisten,

And the waves will roar,

And I will be older

By far.

Alone with the Sea

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Did you see the pale purple transparency of light

That just this morn, heralded the coming of dawn

O’er the ocean?

Did you notice the great expanse of grey that followed,

Or catch a glimpse of that pastel-colored leaf spiraling through the air,

                                                                    Earthbound?

Did you hear the owl’s lonely cry,

Watch the birds on their journey towards warmer waters,

Witness the arrival of another glorious day,
Or was it just me,

Alone with the sea?

Dawn Breaking

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Day is breaking,

And so am I.

 

The crickets sing, still,

But soon their song will be still and silent;

Already, it has reached a crescendo,

And begun to fade.

 

Dawn is blossoming from the East,

Spreading outwards like a lover’s touch

Prying open the secret, furtive parts of this world,

Revealing the weary people of the night,

Who have succeeded in their quest to brave the dark,

At least ’til morn’.

 

The birds have awoken,

And are flying hither and thither;

Soon, their silent wings will take them far from here,

To sing a different song

For some other poet to mournfully record.

 

They seem starlike,

Silhouetted against the pink streaks of dawn,

Save they are lightless,

And distinctly less distant.

 

Now, a seagull cries his way shoreward,

And the colors of sunrise, muted, now,

Are phantom-like and fading,

Fading, fading;

And soon, they will be forgotten

In their entirety.

 

Dawn has broken;

And so have I.

 

A Study in Light

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The dawn
Was pink this morning,
And so were the hulls of the distant ships
Orbiting the horizon
Like far-away stars;
Pink and grey,
And utterly golden
In this light,
Shining
Like tiny lighthouses
On some remote island outpost,
Beckoning me
Towards the sea,
The sand and the surf,
And all the places
I will never go.

Revelation

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My past blew away like smoke,

Fire and lightening streaking

Through the clouds,

Plumes of ash billowing up through the blackness,

As I, electrified, stood enraptured,

In the eye of the storm,

Seizing

The opportunity to sink down to my knees

And worship

At the altar of my weakness,

To watch, helpless,

As the ocean of my youth receded,

And to rise, dazzled,

As the stars emerged on that cloudless night,

Clarity

Making the broad brushstroke of the galaxy

Shine with the brilliance of one of those Arctic sunrises

On those mystical days when the sun still rises,

But defiantly fails to set,

Not forever,

But just long enough

To say, victorious,

“I prevailed.”