pitcher in hand,
she waters with dew
the earth as she rises,
leading the way for the sun–
the god in his chariot glides–
swallowing night in his golden blaze.
But to where does rosy-fingered dawn fly?
On feathered wings, she dances with the stars,
creates new life with passionate embrace,
cares for her incandescent steeds,
(though careless with her lovers)
she beckons and woos, then
sleeps to rise again–
Colleen is back! A double etheree for her Tanka Tuesday, using synonyms for beginning and consume. I haven’t written one of these in a while. It’s a fun exercise.
There was a beautiful sunrise this morning.