Morning sun

Morning sun

In the glitter of the morning sun,
The air is filled with feathered fluttered flight,
The dark and silent river night is run.
In the glitter of the morning sun’s
Gold fingers, green is coaxed to life, begun
Deep in the cold embrace of winter’s night,
And in the glitter of the morning sun,
The air is filled with feathered fluttered flight

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Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

16 thoughts on “Morning sun”

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