Winter Sunrise
by Jennifer Wenn
Too early for me in summer,
but now it’s there, waiting.
Shadowed blackberry bushes deep in slumber,
squirrels not yet scrounging stray bird seed,
but cardinals will soon touch down and greet
the orange and rose glow stealing in
off to the south, just over the cedar hedge,
behind the wildly growing evergreen on the downslope
and the stately sleeping oak reaching over from
back and left, dangling a few stubborn leaves,
the spreading blush not reaching the patio sundial
but caressing the top of the little arbour
and awakening here and there from
the largesse of yesterday’s squall
a delicate opalescence,
bestowing a hushed peace,
a pause between breaths,
the fragile promise of light to come
shimmering on the chilled zephyr
whispering through the pine needles.
Jennifer Wenn is a trans-identified writer and speaker from London, Ontario. Her first poetry chapbook, A Song of Milestones, has been published by Harmonia Press (an imprint of Beliveau Books). She has also written From Adversity to Accomplishment, a family and social history; and published poetry in Beliveau Review, The Ekphrastic Review, Watchyourhead, Open Minds Quarterly, Tuck Magazine, Synaeresis, Big Pond Rumours, the League of Canadian Poets Fresh Voices, Wordsfestzine, and the anthologies Dénouement and Things That Matter. She is also the proud parent of two adult children. Visit her website here.
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