Still and dark with only crickets for conversation
a pink pocket of light appears above the trees.
So something is happening after all.
Now comes another pink ribbon drawn
through the blue dress of sky followed by
another and another and the lightening.
Lovely dawn making its slow, inimitable way
into the town and across my windows.
Comes another day. Holding what?
Holding what for us in its open palms?
We shall leave this room, my dogs and I,
and find out.