John Gallar

(San Jose, California)

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At Dawn...

At dawn foamy clouds wash off melting copper and brass,
Blinking skies open eyes and blush looking down under,
Languid plains wash off stains of last night murky blunder
And grass hoppers stubbornly shake off dew drops on grass...
At dawn mushy birds - husbands sing for mothers to be,
Hungry bees buzz in trees that dress up for heat hours,
In their shade - on parade - ants leave cozy clay towers,
And deer sniff at cornflowers in last moments of spree...
At dawn through open windo

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