Thursday Poem - At Dawn

at dawn this summer morning,
a waning moon floating high in the cloudless
blue consecrates a perfect summer day,
one that will never come again in all
its sweetness and its fey perfume.

slow walkers in the early hours, we go along
together, paw and paw, through fragrant summer
yieldings of chicory, clover and golden daisies,
attended on our rambles by rhyming crickets,
by humming bees and dancing leaves

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

Cate (me)