Darkest before the dawn

Pre-dawn out in shorts today, and it wasn’t that dark, so was just thinking. 


Darkest before the dawn




Like,  just before?


Minutes later

Sunlight bursts forth

Spilling down streets slowly peopling

Bends to hug the fields from hedgerow to hedgerow 


Colours, which moments earlier, were a thing of memory

Are lit, sparkling and hued

Briefly lent goldenness

While the sun focuses on its accelerating skyclimb 


I can understand the logic

Tension highest before the colour explosion

The silence of focus at its most noticeable

Just before the button is pushed

But I’m not buying it.


Not one bit.


Let’s talk the witching hour

When the streets are truly empty

Mist hangs low skulking plough furrows

And halogen pools in the darkness


Anything then is a question

Under milk wood rings in the hills

Time fractures

Spirits drift through shadow and fire


That’s when darkness is

The dead of night


Hope comes not at day’s nadir

But the dawn chorus brings daylight

If not salvation


And the sun will always rise in the morning


Pre-dawn Sloth out.


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