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.

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