Awestruck by the tone and hue
Vivid imagination falls mute
Feet baptized by early dew
Pre-dawn sunrise maintaining repute
Morning's gift unfolds in time
Whether it be gray or bluish pink
Spectral imagery sublime
Drawn from scratch with indelible ink
Too often the morning play
Taken for granted, often ignored
Begins yet another day
Yet in each one I find my reward
YOU ARE READING
I See Through
PoetryPoetic musings of Barry Tudor on life and introspection. A journey of a motorcycling American poet lost in the midst of his own country. Hellish past. Glorious present.
