December Morning - Poem by Orlando Belo
The sun came up above the skeletal dark grey trees this morning,
whilst the grey mist clung fiercely to the ground.
Its rays tried to encompass the heavy coatings of dew,
which the dark hours had purposely left behind.
There was no wind to disturb the stillness and silence,
but then a crow quietly descended onto the grass.
It hopped about pecking between the rich green blades,
drinking the dew as it searched for food after the night's fast.
A mongrel dog ran at great speed towards the crow,
which took off effortlessly into the sky.
It cawed and crowed to complain in the way crows' do,
whilst the dog sat and pondered why.
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