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On reading Ayer at 7.00 am

by Maggie Adams

I gaze unseeing into the hardly-yet morning
Considering a proposition.
But soon, the sun makes an early appearance,
Unwraps the sand dunes,
Unlocks the sea, places the mountains –
Just so.
And my thoughts, like so many children
Awaiting the opening of the door,
Rush out into the opening of this day –
I call them back
But, having failed to discipline them,
And they with scattered notions of
Run off, alighting first here, then there;
I watch from a distance –
Call them softly,
Entreating them to come back,
Whisper soft persuasions
Of a poem in which to put them.
They laugh and draw together,
Suddenly united
And from afar
With a grace I had not thought
Float into their own poem.

© Maggie Adams 2010

Maggie Adams is a writer living in London.

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