a poem a day in the month of may
(The Liminality Journal: Kaitlin Curtice)
Early morning chill,
Warming sun not yet risen,
Birdsong not yet heard.
***
The sky to the east
Lightens slowly,
A magic time for
Slow breath,
Quiet mind,
Grateful heart.
The Blue Hour,
It’s called.
Not quite dawn,
More twilight
As the sun still lies
Deep below the horizon.
Vibrant, deep,
“Sweet light,”
Soft light,
A time of tranquility,
Meeting the chillness
With my favorite fleece.
A Streak of Teal 
“Not quite dawn, more twilight…” Your poem has captured the liminal time between dawn and sunrise when crepuscular animals are most active and you, it seems, are most receptive to poetic ideas.
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What a great word: crepuscular. Thank you for noticing my proclivity for crepuscular creativity. 🙂
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