A poem by Sydney Stone. I do not own the image.
***
Sunrise blush,
On white mountain truss,
Awakened new day,
O’er fields of frosted hay,
A distant cock’s crowing,
Muted by a soft winter sowing,
Of morning’s fresh snow,
Teased by a northern wind’s blow,
Over the tops,
Of hibernating crops,
As you enjoy a warm drink,
Over a dark kitchen sink,
Admiring the sight,
Of the slow banishment of night.

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