While the Hours Away

While the Hours Away

The cold dawn draws my gaze

Towards the sky

Towards the clouds

Which in turn

Gaze back at me

I see their soft white faces

Lined with the ravages

Of winter winds

The dark bruises of the season

Though dissonant

With their gentle beauty

Do not diminish them

There is a plump youthfulness

Where they ripple

Across the face of the heavens

Painted here and there

With the glow of the rising sun

That in time also reveals

The tired and shredded edges

Gradually falling away

Fading into the day

I can read their moods

In their many faces

And today

I feel they are weary

Wishing that the wind

Would give them peace

And allow them

To rest in place

For just the shortest breath of time

So they can fall back

Into the arms of the morning

And while the hours away

© Ann Bagnall 2015.


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