Pink Dawn

The prickle of thought, frozen
in pink snow-sun, radiating,
like hedgehog's clothes,
over wide grass, crisp lake

of field to welcome
dawn with a weep
of white-to-green,
a tear in which a million dreams

hide and swim, locked
by winter's fairytale spell;
freed by the kiss
of a beam such as this.

© Mark Sheeky. Permission is required for reproduction.