A pretty, young girl strolls <br />Among the trees and leaves <br />Causing grasses to straighten <br />After she has passed on <br />To fog darkened waters <br />That chill the early fisher, <br />Making him sluggish and <br />Regretful of leaving <br />The second cup of coffee. <br /> <br />But the pretty girl pauses, <br />Parts the dawn with one <br />Tiny hand, <br />Unwinds a million miles of <br />Ancient light, <br />Then curls it around her <br />Fingers into another skein of <br />Flaxen shards. <br />A round, fuzzy ball she tosses, <br />Laughing, <br />Into the dark. <br /> <br /> <br />(Published in Poetry Nottingham, England)<br /><br />elysabeth faslund<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sunrise-23/
