Tuur Verheyde
Winter Dawn
The dawn rises to greet you,
Its smile dutiful as the former
Teacher’s, its handshake curt,
Blushing as it fails to curtail
Its shy strength. Behind the wry
Smile and sleepless watery eyes,
You sense an expansive hollow,
Dug daily by deep regret. Even as
You warm yourself with small
Talk and brisk buffeting barks,
You sense the sad shovelling slip
In between the inexorable years.
