Sunday 1 March 2015

The sweet edges








Here they are,

the sweet edges of Sunday.

The kind light of the 
first day of March 

is stealing through the attic windows

as I enjoy the gift 
I give to myself,
quiet solitude.

The days of this year
move on,
regardless of us.

I leave earlier than I need to
every day for work
just to see the shell pink dawn
bless that particular church spire I love.

I find such comfort 
in that, 
my ability to see the beauty in it all.

A gift no one ~
no one, 

can steal from me.

The snowdrops in each day.



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