Window Photograph Poem by Matthew Holloway

It was in the late February
Or the early March I recall
Sitting perched on my windowsill
In the early hours nursing a coffee
I watched the dark of night ebb
Into the dusk of a new day
The new light breaking around, through
Those still stripped, barren branches
Of the tree behind my house
My dreams drifted into thoughts
And back to dreams once again
There was a serenity to the air
A holding quiet kept me alone
It was cold, not overbearingly so
And in this tranquil moment I waited
Amongst all this beauty
To see what the day would bring