MORNING #1
Dawn joined us at the beach
the sea's distance
echoed the first pink of the hills.
Terns and gulls
dipped and crossed
a net holding the horizons together.
Pelicans, you informed me,
mate for life
and fly in tandem
over private seas.
We faced the gale as it rose
testing and flinging the sand grains
separate and painful
into our faces.
Arms linked
we staggered indoors
safer in a world where
infinity ends at the edges of walls
and warmth comes from
mechanical devices.
MORNING #2
Far far overhead
above the bridge
supported by fading stars
the old moon watches, wrapped in indigo.
Wind gusts force back the light
withholding dawn.
Three oilskinned men
huddle around a hole
aspirate with brimstone.
Flashing yellow lights
protect them from harm
fragment through tar-black trees
rebound off concrete revetments.
Lurid yellow quarrels with the feeble moon
Suddenly
daylight pours unchecked
across the valley floor
filling the river bed
paling all rivals.
MORNING #3
Brass notes
planed like golden wood shavings
from the widening dawn
fall, trembling and sweet-scented
around our feet
lest we forget.