The Blur of Morning A half light, In a dawn of unfinished dreams. Clarity fails. The blurring of the last of night Blends with daylight, Tentative, reluctant, new. As darkness lifts, Waiting on the sun. And the moon fades To invisible respose. The sky cleansed of black, And colours emerge. Sharp, fresh, lucid. How joyous the full light. When you dream no more.
