New Morning

be it blind faith,

perchance

threadbare arrogance

or a mere

paper-thin bravado

whichever way,

we are assured a new day

will follow this night,

dawn might break with aplomb

a red gash scar bleeding

across the battle-bruised horizon,

thus, in awe we tamely

heed its caution

cowering sheepishly

spellbound,

or she may breezily appear,

sleep-walking, clothed

scantily in a diaphany

of pale blue chiffon,

her pale pink flesh

coyly hidden, for which

we become avid

if somewhat reticent

voyeurs

Published by grahamrsherwood