A Quiet Moment

 

The night is growing old.

Young, dewy eyes watch as the rays of morning sway.

The warmth of dawn meeting with her dark lover,

If only for an hour.

 

Soon the sky will be filled with morning gold.

Pushing the dark gray of midnight away.

Again, their starry children will be covered.

To come out again when the night flowers.

This poem is about: 
Our world

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