Broken In The Morning Poem by Birgit Bunzel Linder

The fifth hour wind wakens
sienna leaves for a twilight chat.
The sky applies white dust in layers.
The moon gleams pebble pink.
Insects swarm around their abodes.
Not yet fully colored,
this day dawns.

The first bird's roll call at 4: 30am.
On and on croons Thrasher Brown.
"Wacka, wacka" chimes Flicker North.
And Tufted Titmouse grooms Billy for the run.
Others lasso the sky in migration mirth.

Poplar leaves flit in the morning breeze,
like sparrows after a sudden scare.
Only one branch bends low.
Only one branch drips frozen dew.
Only one branch brushes my cheeks.
Only one broken branch reminds me of you.