Saturday, November 20, 2010

A Cold Dawn

Before the sun rises
I open my door.

Dogwood red
simmers in the cool
pre-dawn shadows.

ripe berries.

I go to the country
to find the sun.

The deep blues
of night
begin to soften,
dance away.

I follow
the fenceline
bristling with frost.

Sharp cold crystals
the golden foxtail.

As I watch
gold touches
the horizon.

It hesitates.

The silver furrows
of the fields melt
as light strikes
their gnarly lines.

The sun
breaks through
the frozen hedgerow.

The earth warms.

The frosting of night
melts into the air.

The earth spins...

My day begins.


  1. As if the photos weren't amazing enough, you also know how to pick the right words. I mean...who uses the word "gnarly" to describe furrows of crops? That's just awesome!! You are doing very well, Helen. I have been privileged to be able to get to know you and experience the world through your eyes. Thank you.

  2. I agree with Tim. I think you are a poet Helen! Thank you for sharing your many talents with those of us who don't know you other than through this blog!

  3. Glad you all enjoy the blog. I can't decide which I like better - the writing or the photoing. So I do both.

  4. cool frost pics =) but you get pictures of kitty in the frost!

  5. Kitty doesn't like frost. Kitty likes registers.