wrapped in deep darkness of winter daybreak.
The rain settles in on the grasses
and the iris that were taunted into sprouting
by a temperate autumn.
Night dreams linger
the lost dog and the house come loose
meeting the new day within the shadow
of a long dawn.
Morning greets its facing partner too
in a tentative embrace
the place between it and the leaving night
as much of mystery as we will know
before our feet abandon earth.
by Jane Flint
My response:
My eye sees the iris today
because of your poem
and the blue and white
wrap round and round
enclosing us both -