[Dream Gate] [Poet Glas]


Through frozen pines in early morn we tramp
To see the sun arise in eastern skies.
Though frost abounds, we still can feel the damp
And wet; 'twill be hours until the forest dries.

We reach the beach; a mist hides eastern sea
And blends the sky into the water's gray.
Awaiting dawn, we find a fallen tree
And settle in to watch for coming day.

Betwixt the past and future days we stand
And taste the salt of crashing fates and waves.
And on this sand we're trapped 'twixt sea and land
Like fractured cards of kings and queens and knaves.

We never saw the dawn; the mist held fast
Until we lost all hope; I was the last.

copyright 19 July 2000 (On her birthday)
by Earle B. 'Glas' Durboraw; Birmingham.

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