This Hushed State, A Dew-Frozed Morn's Poem by james watkin

This Hushed State, A Dew-Frozed Morn's



This hushed state, a dew-frozed morn's
Fright-motivated
For what shrill, night-crossed, could wake
The dead for the dead?

Or, Earth-faced, what savouring
Through a sacred awe
Claimed the attention, moon, stars
Has still yet to thaw?

Saturday, April 2, 2022
Topic(s) of this poem: morning,awe
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james watkin

james watkin

Melbourne Australia
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