poetry, writing

Early Morning

A gentle rain moves through,

Waking me from my slumber.

Sunrise is still hours away,

But I breath softly, listening to the beat.

Dawn finally breaks,

and the sounds change.

The hoot of an owl bids the night goodbye,

While the screech of the hawk greets the morn.

The stars recede as the night gives way,

And the skies are now clear and blue.

Sweet dreams my nocturnal friends,

As daylight beckons us to start our day.

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