The dawn was cold.
The sun looked old.
The breeze was brisk,
putting tender shoots at risk.
Puffs of clouds fleeted by;
as if on a mission across the sky.
Crystalized dew sequined the ground,
as like fragments of stars—
now earthbound.
And as the sun rose on high
it bid those earthbound stars
to say good bye:
to become gleaming pearls,
melding with air or ground—
to quietly depart without a sound.
Along the Biting Edge 