7 am – the dark time
No hint of light yet at the field’s rim,
Far distant muffled swell of city traffic,
Backdrop to the immediate.
A small almost imperceptible rustle in the hedge
As some small creature moves
And releases a microblast of sharp leaf mould and earth.
A robin trills
Once.
And yet, out of this profound unseeing darkness,
We know
That the world turns.
In breathless anticipation of a glimmer of light,
We wait.
Jo Hansen 