Dawn

Dawn wore a blue dress
this morning
I saw her scampering up the hill
to the apple tree
covered by forged mantle of green
jeweled in gold
sculptured as in tempest
mountainous sculpture
towering and towering
upheaving and exploding
a dragon's lair — night within
Dawn stood a moment
looking up into the darkness
and seeing a bough coming down to reach her
she shinnied up in the early morn
disappearing into the night
But then from out the tree—
from out the branches and leaves
from the darkness within
her hair streamed down
swayed softly back and forth—
golden rays
against the mist
the calm
the sleeping earth
I went to her when she had stopped
she seemed so small-
a trace of blue in so large a heaven
her hair yet flowing down
as she lay
I asked what she was doing so still
she said: dreaming
and I asked: of princes and castles and roses
she answered: just...just dreaming
I gazed at her in her dream
wondering what kind of lady she would be—
a dreamer
a conqueror
a windswept mystical lady
a priestess
a wanderer
As I gazed
I loved
She turned her eyes to mine
as though she knew but I...looked away
She sat up
reached out her hand to an apple
took it
and drew it to her lips
slowly
dreamily
like the dawn