Dawn

The cold bright colors of a
Winter dawn,
Enthrall me.
A new Pandora and I watch
The stars wink out,
Sunlight streams into the
Cabin, until too bright
To view, we shut the curtain,
And go back to sleep.
Roll out is 8 am,
A retired person’s
Proper time to rise,
But I am not a proper
Person,
Old soldiers, the poor
And poets greet
Each winter dawn
And the cold bright
Colors of first
Light.