Cross grass
bruised brown by August
beneath sky
pearled with rain’s
forebirth
morning
freshens with sparrowchant
livens with leafbreeze
heaven silvers slightly
behind her cloudcurtain
and the workworld
wakes and walks
through weal and woe
through noise and news
through blight and blessing
This imagery brings me into the morning described by the poem. “Sky pearled with rain’s forebirth” is particularly striking.
Thank you kindestly, Elena!
Nice start