Mabh Savage
Words and the world passing by; how it sings to me; how I clamour back.
Greydawn
When the sun doesn’t rise
Majestically over
The horizon
But diffuses through cloud
Like milk spilling
Through ink
When bird song sends
Rain shivering
Onto sodden paths
When the moon has fizzled damply
And stars have sighed and left
Without saying goodbye
When night passes into day
With no great change
Just black to less black
To pale and washed away
This is greydawn
A haunting morn
Not a time
To be reborn.
Mabh Savage 