When Dawn Comes Poem by James McLain

and when was it yours
or
when was it his
and look not away
and dawn is it always
is dawn
when it comes
and you run with it wait
smell the yellow of it
the golden center in it
for the sun for the flower
brown and many are they
for the middle the center
coming up coming down
and dawn comes
running across the fields
looking for you each leaf
and dawn when it comes
leaves me empty
full of hope as I wait for the rest
of the dawns when they come
like the rest on the hill
looking up at the sky
your face do I see floating by
when the sun like the dawn
I then rise.