Low in the east,
dawn silvers the taut canvas
of a summering sky
attuned to imperceptible clues,
send their song soaring
towards new morn.
No lockdown for them:
they sing where they please
and travel unknown journeys
without guilt or fear
while we huddle here,
embracing our privilege,
latterly stumbled upon,
by virtue of birth year and education.
Suddenly, the sun punches a hole
behind the cherry tree
and a myriad of upward light
sweeps through to greet another day
and I turn, watching you sleep,
wholly grateful for the unplanned eloquence
of the life we’ve created
without really noticing,
We were set the task of writing an Aubade by our creative writing tutor recently. An
aubade is a poem set at dawn, celebrating or lamenting love.