Dawn

Loretta Strharsky

In the not quite dark before early morning,

The moon loosens itself from the wispy tree branches

Making its escape to the far distances of the sky,

Several stars join the journey to parts unknown,

The ashen clouds challenge the dissipating night,

The wind manipulates those same fingerling branches

Playing a game not intended to break what could become kindling.

Finally the dawn calms the sky

Offering a gentle hug for the coming day.

With anticipation, the sun rises.

01/14/2026