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Waiting the Arrival

Updated on September 9, 2015

Where is it?
I know.
All know.


Where young Jay,
his un-trained yelp,
Is heard before his first meals.


Where Cricket’s song,
Before heat of day,
Is wall of noise.

Where Owl,
And her brood,
Mechanical blinks
Slow and shut.

Where is it?
All know.

It is where Dawn
Bends gracefully;
Touching fingers
Gently upon
Dewed blade
and waxen earth.

Where sky
Turns from black
To deepest, darkest
Translucent Cobalt.

It is
Just over the hill,
where night and day collide -
Morning.

~Christine Patrice Gebera

© 2015 Christine Patrice Gebera

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