“Morning”….a poem




A wedge of sullen moon

Pales above

As life awakes beneath.


Birdsong threads through

Trees, a staccato cacophony

Anointing the air

Like colored ribbons

Weaving back and forth

The timbre ever changing.


Green spring trees, tender, tender

An early nursery of life

Can anything be wrong with the world?


The hammock swings gently of its own accord

Perhaps a haunt, a ghost invisible.


Faint gunshots far in the distance last night

Where some would

Impose their vile humanity

Startling for a moment

Until sleep reclaims.

So it goes, this is the city.


The hoot of a sleepy owl in the morning

Echoes the cry of a distant train

While seed pods from maple trees

Flutter to the ground.


We have survived the dark,

It’s blackened mysteries,

Alien things that rattle us.

We are cradled in Nature’s promise

Of life beginning again each morning

While the moon above yawns, fades and disappears.


Jane Kohut-Bartels

Copyrighted, 2014


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2 Responses to ““Morning”….a poem”

  1. Sherry Marr Says:

    You have captured it exactly, everything outside our door so peaceful and fresh-minted, the distant sound of gunfire, sadly now becoming “normal”, our chance to get it right as a brand new day dawns. Beautiful poem!!!!!!


  2. ladynyo Says:

    Ahhh, thank you, Sherry. Every new day is a chance to change your life….and right now….I am going to try to go back and read some of my favorite poets: William Stafford, especially. A plain spoken and heartfelt poet if there ever was one. Thank you for reading and your deeply appreciated comment, Sherry. Will be over to you wonderful site soon. Am hennaing my hair and it’s dripping down my face. LOL!


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