Thursday Poem - At Dawn

At dawn, a frail moon up there in the 

blue, blesses a perfect summer day, 

one that will never come  again.

Slow walkers in the early hours, we

go along together, paw and paw, through

fragrant summer yieldings of clover, grass
and golden daisies, of rhyming cricket,
humming bee and dancing leaf

while around us, unseen but deeply felt
and loved, the world is breathing in and
out, all our voices falling together
into seamless light and tune and time.

Cate(me)