Beth Camp Historical Fiction

Monday, April 06, 2015

E is for early . . .

Better early than late. 
If we were farmers up with dawn,
would we see the sun rise
with any anticipation?
Or would we lean exhausted 
into the task before us,
numb routine erasing each day?
I am a child of the city,
far from fields' tidy rows,
yet early to wake before the sun
lightens the sky,
my potted patio pansies a whimsy,
fragile as any bird's nest
snugged between a willow's branch
and April's winds.

Duck's Nest Under Willow,
St. James Park
by Renee Rosen-Wakeford (Flickr)

Join the blog hop for the Blogging A to Z Challenge or NaPoWriMo  -- both to celebrate April, National Poetry Month.