into the chill grey dawn

into the chill grey dawn

into the chill grey dawn
over the dew-dripped lawn
treacled a half-grown fawn
out of the stillness

gunmetal sky hangs low
caressing birch below
as north winds gently blow
over the stillness

out of grey oaks so tall
from branches big and small
numberless acorns fall
into the stillness

slate-colored stone ledge curls
softened by green thyme swirls
under the gamboling squirrels
goading the stillness

all too soon morning blooms
and day’s agenda looms
but my soul still communes
with the stillness

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