Dusk & Dawn

Rosslyn’s rocky shoreline on the northern half of our waterfront. Morning. First flirting, then embracing sunup, this boundary between land and water (static from dusk and dawn) un-slumbers slowly. Fresh frontiers arise.

So much longing. So many possibilities.

Dusk & Dawn

Sunrise gilds —
     mountain range,
     restless lake, 
     and a course,
     here to there,
     there to here —
awakens
a kinship —
     dusk with dawn,
     endings with
     beginnings,
     night trees in 
     silhouette
     lingering,
     tenderly
     touching day —
and beach’s
rocky edge
starts to stir. 

This poem still rough, still forming, wants to be a haiku. I think. But so far, at best, it’s a run-on haiku…