Poets' Practice Pad

Cold thin dawn

The thread-like bridge
of the Stairway-to-Heaven fades
before yet another day of fog,
of grey skies, gloom, my thoughts
that match this empty landscape.

O, for snow
and the flit of cardinals,
to add some color,
or for summer's thirst
in circling shadows of a vulture's wing
to make me wonder.

O bring me home
and let me cross
this thread-like bridge, this bright thin stairway
out of numbness.

Kåre Enga

[164.42] 2007-04-21