To a hillside, a crop of houses cling,
overlook a harbour; a city-port.
White-washed walls absorb a sunlit morning.
Train-tracks and traffic underline a thought.
Birds, gulls and terns, etch the sky with traces
of a coastal breeze; pelicans are drifting.
There’s a long wharf with cargo in cases.
Cranes begin a day of heavy-lifting.
Yellow bus gives way to a staggered start;
the zig-zag pattern of a day takes shape.
A city’s plan runs the way of nature’s art;
suburban portrait draws a cityscape.
. From the suburbs a cityscape is drawn;
. sunshine (as the artist) draws best at dawn.
© Tim Grace, 21 January 2013
To the reader: A new day deserves a fresh dawn. The shadows of yesterday cast aside. And so it was in New Zealand when I woke to a brand new vista. The harbour was already abuzz with import/export activity; an intermingling of nature and business trading terms of interests. The hillside-suburbs, slow to wake, were beginning to stir. Life resembling art…
To the poet: … and who was the artist? The sun. In every respect, this consummate colourist was controlling the medium. The pallet was crisp, not saturated, with cool blues and deep greens. A yellow hue was attending to dark remnants of lingering night. The solid canvas of horizontal swatches became animated with small features of meandering life … drifting, sifting; lifting the day on its way to a zenith noon.
4 thoughts on “Best at Dawn”
I really like this, the train-tracks and traffic underline a thought, the zig-zag pattern of a day takes shape..reminds me of looking down the road in Tranmere to the Liverpool docks, or up cliffs and villages in Cornwall and places in Wales, painting with words and using the words of painting or scribbling…thank you
Wordscapes … and the page is my canvas; a bit like thoughtful sketching – or scribbling. Description is important; but as you note, the mark of success is imagery that resonates with someone else’s experience. Thanks for your comment.
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Beautiful! I especially like:Yellow bus gives way to a staggered start;
the zig-zag pattern of a day takes shape. 🙂
The nice thing about this sonnet was that it was as much fun to write as it is to read. The choreography of words and pictures is satisifying.
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