Photo by Dameli Zhantas
Advent
Lorraine Caputo
I awaken hours before the dawn,
the heavens wrapped in blackness
the moon slivered to nothingness
the streets silent.
I chase those yet-elusive words,
phrases that have hidden away
for months, mute . . . muted . . .
A lone church tolls the five-o’clock hour
darkness yet envelopes this city
the nocturnal hush yet reigns
Until the heavy voices
of men below, then the
grating, the clanks
of the bakery’s doors opening.
The dawn is just now lightening the sky,
shadowing the bulky clouds
that soon will come to colorful life,
dogs bark on the hillsides,
someplace a rooster crows,
a lone car passes below . . .
Lorraine Caputo
I awaken hours before the dawn,
the heavens wrapped in blackness
the moon slivered to nothingness
the streets silent.
I chase those yet-elusive words,
phrases that have hidden away
for months, mute . . . muted . . .
A lone church tolls the five-o’clock hour
darkness yet envelopes this city
the nocturnal hush yet reigns
Until the heavy voices
of men below, then the
grating, the clanks
of the bakery’s doors opening.
The dawn is just now lightening the sky,
shadowing the bulky clouds
that soon will come to colorful life,
dogs bark on the hillsides,
someplace a rooster crows,
a lone car passes below . . .