Morning Dew Poem by Irina Doichinova

Morning Dew



Morning Dew

Yesterday the fog lifted gently
And the morning was as pure as usual.
That which stunned me was the dew -
There was something fresh and new -
That sensation of an approaching miracle,
That sensation of forgetting the past.
And it hung in the air coming from the dew.
Like a child believing in the virtue of imagining
I tried as much to inhale and took it in my pocket.
So I carried it till the advent of the dusk.
With childlike eagerness, I fumbled for it -
It was still there
When the stars glittered timidly
In the quiet evening sky.
I kept it close to my chest lest it vanished.
All I dreamed of that night
Were fields covered with dew.

Thursday, May 12, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: hope,miracle,morning
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