Good Morning, Day

The earth

hardens and

turns a whiter

shade of firm

in the frozen 

morning hours 

along the stream.  

Purpling, the 

blackberry branches

grab at me

as I walk the

trap line 

of winter.

Silence is heavy

in the predawn 

fields.  The sun

holds herself ‘til

almost all at once

she rises - hastening

slowly one ray

burst at a time.

The birds of 

winter greet her

with chattered song,

and the stumps of

cornstalks crackle

beneath my boots.

Good morning, day!