Small Hour Dawn Poem by Sally Evans

My car rests in a layby
in the dawn quiet. Already
the sun, low and bright,
finds the opposite shore.

Already the forest birds
creep round the old oaks
down to the cool mossy stones
and splash in the lochside.

Already bluebells wink
and waterlily buds
float over the water
at the edge of the bay.

I eat my breakfast -
no fox or otter comes.
Twinkling tiny fish
rise for my crumbs.

Small hour dawn
lets me into its secrets.
Already I forget them
as I drive away.
(Envoi)