Morning Birth (Poem)

Enter fawn

of sweet new birth,

bathed in the light

of this new home.

Mother licks and

legs attain grace,

to learn of height

and of Nature’s face.

 

The eyes blink wildly

the land bursting at them

with greens,

and breeze…

sway, of tree.

 

Taste of grass and

step to stride.

Wag of tail

tongue, glide.
Breath is new as morning dew

air of home

sinks into lungs

emboldens blood

to muscle, to bone

etching the patterns

of what has already grown.

 

Prance, youth.

Prance as air would

if clouds were breathing too.

 

 

 

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