The Dawn Poem by Paddy J. P. Harris

What is the dawn but a greying and a chill
Of damp and frost that, like a sullen ghost,
Passes through the body and the Earth?
They feel it not; they were here before the dawn,
Whining, clanging and droning is all they know
For morning hymn. To them the day is just a light
That shows the dust upon their faces and rot
Upon their hands; that shows the trees and grass,
The passing cars and hanging clouds above,
And all the things they wish to join again.