Before waking world, the world wakes,
Shivering under frosted flakes
As sunrise eyes begin to peek,
Casting scattered shadows so meek
That from bedroom window I sigh.
Mottled grey snow begets grey sky
And lo, the first risers do rise!
From stillness, the dawn chorus flies:
Sing-song joy cracking winter bare;
Tail-feathers painting weary air.
And from this–earth’s waking moan,
I fancy myself not alone.