The chill of night! And I awake to find
The blush of dawn upon the cheek of day.
The trees resolve themselves from out the dark
And limn themselves against the sky of grey.
Blush turns to apricot and now the light
Begins to warm as deeper hues arrive
To herald Sol whose lemon yellow rays
Prod bird and beast and sleepy me arise.
The mist upon the lake is pearly white
And strong the sun burns through the drifting haze.
Bright green, new leaves emerge from blue of night.
But I blink slowly, smiling at the day,
And roll toward my sweetheart next to me.
For just a few more moments, leave me be.
E.E. Whiting, formerly a trusts and estates attorney in the financial services industry, is now a memoir writer. A Plainsboro resident, she is a reader of the submissions to this issue.
