Piker Press — Weekly Journal of Arts and Literature
April 27, 2026

The New Dawn

Dawn looks different to night creatures.

Rotation--cycles--everything comes back again
Horrified by it all--I await the new dawn
Light crests over hilltops--vivid
Night retreats from my eyes but not my soul

I am comforted by the dark it has always been my place
Nightfall is my home--shadow dancing
Constantly I look for clues in the shapes
That flitter in the corners of my heart

Rust stained horizon with whisps of grey Crowd my vision as I wait
Birds chortle to each other amidst the leaves
Chirps and calls of affection crowd out the dark

The crickets and fireflies--the bats and owls are all gone
Cheerful creatures crowd out my companions
Neighbors greet the morning with vigor
It wearies my soul--day has begun.

13 october 2002
8:45pm PST
California

More by Lydia Manx → More poetry → Full issue →
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