Dawn shakes it´s head turns with a feather full of ink.
Is this my present new day?
Dawn looks up at my exhausted face.
Before the sun has made the land a realm of light.
Dawn pulls out the sleep, the sighs the yawns, it sends us scattering into what is now a clearskied day.
Merciless Dawn...
Writing every task and target and trivial concern over our waking minds.
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